Rise of House Peverell
by Thunderbird29
Summary: Harry was content in his own world but now, would he be content in this new one. What would he do when given power, power in the form of being heir to one of the Noble houses of North. Will he be able to save north from the upcoming winter...even with his magical power, would it be enough.
1. Chapter 1: A new world and a new life

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor Game of thrones or A song of Ice and Fire series. I just own my thoughts which are very much original.**

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 **Chapter-1: A new world and a new life**

Harry Potter did not know how he came to this world nor did he have any knowledge on how he was reincarnated to the boot. But he had his suspicions; it all came back to those three items, the elder wand, the resurrection stone, and the cloak of invisibility. He thought that this way he can be considered the _**'Master of Death'**_ since his soul didn't really passed on and he didn't get to meet his family on the other side of veil either. Or maybe this was the next great adventure Dumbledore used to talk about so much. He didn't know, nor did he honestly care at the moment. Living a fulfilling life of more than 250 years have taught him that things like these will only be revealed when the time is right and thinking about these issues will only give him headaches without yielding any result so he let the issue drop for the time being. Either way it will be an interesting life in the place that he now calls his home. He was after all in the world of _**"Game of Thrones"  
**_

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 _282 AL…_

Roose Bolton rode calmly in front of his banner men and levies as Dreadfort came in his sight. At the sight of his ancestral seat the Bolton lord felt a kind of excitement and anticipation that he has never felt in his life. Now, he was not a man who felt a great deal of emotion but the coming meeting with his newborn son and heir had him excited at the prospect, after all it will be his firstborn who will carry his legacy, the legacy of the Red Kings. After the successful rebellion and crowning of the new king, he wanted to spend some time in his own lands with his heir before he once again gets busy with his duties.

As he enters the castle, he is greeted by his steward Marcus Paige, a man of average height, strong built with some muscles, brown hair and brown eyes, nothing too remarkable but he was rather competent and efficient with some healthy dose of ambition, just the kind of man he preferred to work with.

Next to greet him was his wife Lady Bethany Bolton nee Ryswell. His wife was a beautiful woman, not the fragile and soft kind but rather hard and unyielding, like most of the women in the north were. She had brown hair, green eyes and a generous bust on her lean and healthy frame. Their marriage was mostly loveless. They had not much affection for one another but they cared for each other; more out of sense of duty than anything, so there was always some distance between the two of them; well that and their differences on practices of House Bolton. Flaying disgusted his lady wife so did the leeching. To prevent constant conflict in the household, Roose had decided earlier in his marriage to lay off these methods; till now that is. But now that the need for heir has died, he can do as he pleases and if his wife had a problem with that then she will have to learn to deal with it and he really could care less after all the fighting that he did.

At the thought of his heir he finally noticed a toddler in his lady wife's arms. He silently walks towards them as his steward bows and he answers with a nod. His wife adjusts the babe in her grasp so that he can see his heir for the first time in his life and he was not disappointed, the babe turns towards him and regards him with his surprisingly intelligent green eyes. He had messy midnight black hair. He could not discern any other feature as the boy was only ten months old, yet he was of noble birth, there was no doubt of it.

"It seems, the boy have your eyes." He said to his wife.

"Aye, though how he has black hair, I do not know." She replied back smiling slightly.

"From what I remember about my mother, she was black of hair like the rest of her family, most likely the child inherited it from her, but I can see the Bolton resemblance in him, his skin is quite pale." The Bolton lord said back.

"I hope that it pleases my lord husband to have a legitimate heir to his estate." She replied back though there was a hint of warning in her tone that if he said anything less than pleasant about her son he was going to regret it.

"Yes he is viable and good enough, I suppose." He mused to himself. "Very well than I will declare him my heir after giving the child a name." He declared after some thought.

"He already has a name." She told me evenly though the Bolton lord detected a bit of nervousness in her voice.

"And pray tell me what you named him." He asked a bit frostily.

"Domeric, Domeric Bolton, it's a strong name and belonged to a powerful and popular Red King, one of your ancestors I believe." She replied back just as frostily.

He frowned thoughtfully for a moment and then gave his consent to his wife. It would not do to fight with his wife on such small issue and he believed that Domeric was as good a name as any other.

 _4 months back…_

Harry or Domeric, was honestly lost and slightly scared because if the situation he found himself in. On one hand he was given the opportunity to live a new life but on the other hand he wanted to rest with his parents and his wife. His first life was not bad but there was always something that was missing. He never had control and independence; it was only in his later years that he could do what he felt like doing. The first 10 years of his life, living with Dursleys, were unpleasant to say the least but he got through it. Being treated like a slave didn't help him at all; he had very low self-worth and a whole lot of different issues that come from being regularly abused. When the time came to go Hogwarts, he thought he was getting a new chance but again magical world had decided the path for their dear _savior._ His recklessness and Gryffindorish behavior has cost him a lot and got him nearly killed a number of times. And now looking back at those times Harry felt incredibly stupid. Let's not forget about the damn prophecy that started it all. He did not believe in it but it did not matter, like most things in his life, as long as Voldemort thought him as his nemesis, he was always in danger. Looking back to the quest and subsequent defeat of the dark lord, he can freely say that they only defeated Voldemort because of sheer dumb luck and determination on their part and unbelievable amount of arrogance on dark lord's part. Then he joined the Ministry as an auror and became their unwilling lapdog. The department didn't respect his prowess in magic in the start, most of them thought him to be ministerial poster boy. It was hard going but he managed somehow. He learned a lot about administration during that time, politics too. He then went on to become Minister of Magic and later Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. It was only after the first 70 years of his life that he was free to do anything he wanted to do. So, the first thing he did was to learn new fields of magic. For the next few decades he learnt healing, runes, arthimancy, enchanting, mind arts, animagus transformation, alchemy, advanced battle magic, blood magic, rituals, dark arts and the basic of necromancy too, the last one he decided that he could not stomach and did not further pursue the subject. In his hundred and third year, his wife, Ginny's health started deteriorating and after 2 years she died because of natural cause. He was heartbroken for some time but with the help of his family and friends he moved on. He then decided to travel around the world, learning new brands of magic, visiting different places and making new friend and enemies alike. He learnt different spells, potions, runes, rituals and meet different magical creatures.

During one of these trips to India, he discovered he had a block on his metamorphmagus ability. The block was first placed by his parents and would have dissolved automatically by the age of eleven, but his treatment at hands of his relatives prevented it from happening. Harry subconsciously believed that drawing attention was not a good thing so he accidently empowered the block so that he can easily blend in. Being considered the savior of magical society didn't help either, he continued to shy away from attention both positive and negative. After removing the block it was found that he was a complete metamorphmagus which were rarity and it was almost unheard of two of them being born in the same generation which Tonks and he were part of. It allowed him to hide better. He could not change his gender, nor did he have any wish to, but he could age and de-age himself with some concentration. He lived his last years reading and writing books on magical theories and his travels around the world. After living for more than twenty-five decade he passed on for his next great adventure, only problem with that was that he did not expect to arrive in a new world.

The first six months of his new life were both tiring and embarrassing to say the least. He could do nothing besides crying, shitting and then crying some more while shitting. He was in constant state of hunger and exhaustion. The first time he was breast fed he nearly threw a tantrum then and there but at last his hunger and common sense won out. Even after that he only fed from his new mother; it seems to make her incredibly happy, something about being able to identify her.

Now it was night time and he was alone in his cradle, he was trying to assess his magic which he could still fell was there. His core was unstable at the moment but he still possessed a lot of raw power and this made him very happy, after living so long with magic he just could not imagine a life without it. He by no means was defenseless without it but still what can he say he just loved **magic**.

Next, he checked his memories and mental defenses, and he was not ashamed to admit it but after seeing the state of his mind for first time in six months he wanted to cry. His memories were scattered all around his mindscape and there were no active defenses. As if that was not enough some of his memories were blocked from him, some were even becoming foggy and unclear. In short he had his work cut out for him. Well then, no time like present he thought to himself and set out on repairing and reshaping his mindscape. His mindscape resembled his study in Potter Manor. It was a square room of 6 meters with a large wooden desk and a chair in front of the window. There were various cabinets to the side for files, documents and other artifacts. Before the desk was a pair of comfortable leather chairs. There was a private library and a washroom attached to the study. There was also a safe which was quite heavily protected, which contained fake memories and emotions. His real memories were stored in a secret compartment behind the cabinet. While the files and documents contained important information and knowledge that he had gained from his studies, travels and the numerous adventures he had gone through. Harry pulled an all-nighter to work on his mind but even after that, he knew it will take him many months to properly arrange the memories. As the first rays of dawn approached he decided to go back to sleep.

Weeks passed in familiar routine. He did not learn much about the place he was in but still he was able to gain some information with his limited hearing. He was able to stay awake for longer periods but still it was not enough. From what he had heard from the maid and other servants around him was that, he was born in a noble family in the northern part of the kingdom, the world was in feudal age and he was heir to the House Bolton of Dreadfort. The continent of Westeros that he found himself was divided in seven kingdoms each ruled by a Great House who in turn were ruled by Targaryen dynasty of King's Landing. The realm currently was at war, he did not know the reason except that the current ruler was also known as the mad king. He knew that the world he found himself in sounded familiar to him but he was not sure, nonetheless he searched his mind for any information that he could use. He soon discovered that most of the major information regarding from the show that was based on this world was present in the files but all the finer details were missing. Also the information available was till _"Robert's Rebellion"._ This meant that there was an outside interference in his mind, the thought unnerved him but also made him curious and cautious of this new world he found himself in. So after hard days of work for past 4 months he didn't have much to show for his progress, but then again, when was life easy for one, Harry James Potter.

 _Present time: 282 AL…_

Harry was waiting for his lord father to arrive with his mother, steward Marcus and other servants and soldiers that work for House Bolton in the main courtyard of the fort. He saw his father come riding on top of a brown warhorse. He was tall man of 6'2'' in height, had brown hairs and icy blue eyes, hard and cold eyes. He cut an intimidating image with his sword and black winter cloak. His gait was that of a veteran warrior and a predator. While his parents were talking he was taking in his surroundings, it was the first time he had been out in this part of the castle. The place was not much different than the rest of the castle, high walls of black stones covered the courtyard, and the floor was primarily made of red stone except the path leading from the gate to the stables. The path was hard ground with sprinkles of snow here and there. The courtyard was connected to stables, training ground, and guard quarters.

After some time the party retired to the castle for some rest before lunch. The brief amount of time in which Harry had met his new father's eyes he came to the conclusion that his father was a cunning, ruthless and selfish man. A kind of man who lust after power, glory, prestige and everything that comes with it. He further deduced that his lord father will be hard to manipulate but he was confident that he can be persuaded with some compulsion charms if he does not see things his way, after all he was a master of politics and subtle manipulations from his time in ministry. But, he didn't think it will come to that, his father's greed will work well in his favor. All in all, he would do what he was best at doing. He did it for ten years while living at the Dursleys, he did it when for seven years Voldemort was after him and he did it again after Voldemort killed him. **Survive** , that is what he was going to do.


	2. Chapter 2: Greyjoy Rebellion

Chapter-2: Greyjoy Rebellion, freedom and discoveries

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 _Present time: 289 AL…_

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and slowly years passed by. Now a seven year old Harry Potter waits for his father in the lord's solar. In the past six years he had learnt much from his studies in library and with Maester Wolkon. Sometimes his lord father also helped in his studies. His birth mother had died when he was only four years old. He had tried to help her but his magic had been too unstable at the time. Domeric had been grief stricken for months after that. Losing your birth mother twice was not something that he ever wished to experience. Logically he knew that he could do nothing to help her but it did not lessen the pain and guilt in his heart. Only after spending sometime in Barrow town with his Aunt Barbrey did he felt like doing anything again. He had promised himself to live his life to fullest and protect the people he cared about no matter what. He decided then and there that his life as Harry Potter has ended its time to move on and to live as Domeric Bolton, he would never forget his family of his first life but he won't live in the past either. His musings were cut short as the door opens and his father enters the solar. He calmly walks to his chair and takes his seat. He studies Domeric for a moment then he starts speaking, apparently satisfied with his inspection.

"I have been called to Winterfell. Lord Stark is raising his banners on order from his grace, King Robert Baratheon." Roose Bolton told his son neutrally.

"The King will only ask Lord Stark to call all his banner men if someone has openly rebelled against the crown." Domeric replied back calmly.

"Good observation, Balon Greyjoy has declared himself King of the Iron Islands. He has sacked Lannisport and raided Seaguard and many small towns and villages across Riverrun and Westerlands." Lord Bolton informed his son.

"Only a Greyjoy will be foolish enough to challenge the crown with no allies and attack Tywin Lannister at that. I won't be surprised if the Pyke becomes the next Castmere." Domeric replied dryly.

"Agreed, I will be taking two thousand men with me in three days; you will be Lord of Dreadfort in my absence and I expect you to take your duties seriously. **Do not fail me** " warned the Bolton Lord.

"I have no wish to disappoint you." Domeric replied back evenly.

"Good. Leave now, I have other matters to attend to." Roose Bolton ordered his heir.

Domeric bows to his father and calmly walks out of the room.

Now that he has some time to think, he can clearly see many advantages that he will gain once his father leaves Dreadfort. Till now he has not been allowed to physically train himself, but once his father leaves he can do as he pleases. He was not old enough to practice sword play and jousting though he was an excellent rider; Aunt Barbrey says that's the Ryswell blood in him but Domeric think its Potter in him rather than Ryswell that makes him a half horse when he is riding however he digress. That leaves archery and throwing knives for him.

He thinks to himself 'aside from that, I can easily practice some magical skills that do not need a wand or stability of core.' Before coming here he could do most of the spells wandlessly. However, in recent days he have noticed a change in his magical core, his magic have become wilder, primal even. Though it has started to stabilize, it still has changed. He believes it to be due to his transition in this world, it now matches the magical signature of ambient magic in the Godswood a great deal. That is another interesting thing to look into.

Days went by as Domeric worked tirelessly on his archery and throwing knives skills. He was quick study and stubborn enough to practice to the point beyond exhaustion. He practiced at least four hours a day. His body may have been physically weak but his determination was strong. Most of his time was spent on either performing his lordly duties with the steward but he still managed to practice magic and study this world's magical environment. Now, not many would expect a child of seven successfully running a household but here in north, particularly in House Bolton, children are taught the harsh realities of winter early in their lives. The heirs are especially trained harder and Domeric was already considered unusually smart for someone his age.

But everything was not so smooth sailing even for him, the first problem arrived when he tried to apparate, his first try resulted in him crashing in the library wall instead of arriving at his room like he had planned, thankfully it was late night and no one was around to see it. He later discovered that apparition would not be viable with same arthimatic equation that was used on earth because the planet's dimensions were not the same. So he put all kinds of magical transportation on hold for the moment. He was going to search for an alternate matter sooner or later but for now, the subject was closed.

Next he tried to test his legilimency, which thankfully worked though he could only use passive abilities that the art provided. He could only read surface thoughts and from moderate to powerful emotions and only when looking someone right in the eyes. It was enough for the moment and will help him survive in this cut-throat backward world that he found himself quickly becoming part of.

Compulsion charms and _imperius_ were the next to be tested, which worked but took a lot of power and a person strong enough could easily overcome them. Domeric had no qualm against using any of the unforgivable as long as it was necessary to do so. Many times he was forced to do dirty work as an auror and the chief warlock. The scum of the society were not so easy to deal with and even his patience had its limits. So, it was either that or become a target dummy for dark wizards who would repeatedly find their way out of ministry holding cells.

Using a powerful compulsion charm on the castle maester, he was able to procure some of his personal tomes on magic and its existence, though the books proved to be a disappointment to say the least. They did not outright deny the existence of magic and arcane but did not put much stock in it either. There were many northern legends about white walkers, skin-changers, green-seers, giants, mammoths and what not but few were not complete exaggeration or mockery.

Then he tried his metamorphmagus ability which to his pleasant surprise he had good control over. The same could be said about his animagus transformation, he found it easy to meditate and concentrate in order to bond with his inner animal that was why he was so surprised when he was unable to do so. Before his death, his form was that of a large black Pegasus and now his form appeared to have changed that is the only reason he could find for his failed transformation. He did not meditate enough to find out his new form but he was sure it was some kind of bird. Change in one's form was unusual but it had happened in the past. Whenever someone goes through a life changing event, their very being gets altered and the event leaves its mark on their soul. The animal spirit of a wizard is an actual representation of his soul, not unlike Patronus charm in nature, just more complex and elaborate. So, some kind of change in his animal form was possible as death is truly a life changing event; oh the irony of the statement.

This proved the theory he had come up with in the beginning, in this world magic related to body, mind and spirit of the user will be relatively easy compared to any kind of magical manipulation done to the environment (charms, transfiguration, healing, transportation, battle magic, etc.). It was further proved when during a training session he cut himself with a throwing knife and the cut was shallow enough to heal instantly leaving only a faint scar behind which then disappeared in a day's time. This meant that his passive healing factor has improved by a large factor. Spells such as invisibility spell when used on user were easier to maintain compared to using them on someone else.

Nothing of interest happened while Lord Bolton was away though one incident does come to mind. It was late afternoon and Domeric was making his way to the archery range invisibly and at the same time he was practicing legilimency. He was reading surface thoughts and small bit of recent memories when he came upon an interesting mind. The mind had thoughts, troubling thought, thoughts only one kind of person could have and that is a: spy.


	3. Chapter 3: Mockingbird

**Chapter-3: Making holes in Mockingbird's nest**

The person in question was none other than a young stable boy, Liam Frost; he was in his late teens, rather a plain looking lad with brown hair, brown eyes and lean frame, though if one was to look closely they can easily see the muscles hidden behind his loose and bulky clothes. The thing that interested him was that he was one of the _Littlefinger's_ spies. How the hell did he managed to get one of his spies in Dreadfort after all the protections father put in place he had no idea. But it did make sense for Baelish to have one of his spies positioned here in Dreadfort as House Bolton was the second most powerful house in the North after House Stark.

Liam currently was thinking on sending a raven to Baelish to give his monthly report. Domeric slowly pushed in his mind to find his connection to the man. He learned that he was being blackmailed by mockingbird, if he did not comply with Baelish's demands he will make his sister of two and ten work in one of his famous whorehouses. She will be kept safe as long as he kept spying for Lord Baelish. Domeric found a new reason to end Petyr's life. People like Baelish disgusted Domeric to no end. But he could not afford a spy in the castle, if anyone found about his magic and it reached to the ears of wrong people then there will be hell to pay. So, with this thought in mind he moved to kill the boy. He did not like killing innocent people but he was stuck in rock and hard place. As he was stalking his prey a sudden thought entered young Bolton's mind that made him stop for a second; even if he killed the guy it would just make Baelish send another one of his spies here and the next time he may not be lucky enough to spot him or her. So, Domeric decided to let Liam live, for now, after all better the devil you know than the one you don't. And maybe he can even gain a spy in Baelish's network, something to think about.

After several weeks of keeping a close watch on Liam, Domeric came to realize that he was an honorable, calm, smart, and strong man. He will make for a wonderful adviser and maybe a good spymaster too. So one day he decided to act on his musings. He followed Liam till he was alone in stables. He calmly walked towards him and cleared his throat.

Liam jumps in surprise and turns around to face Domeric. He immediately bows and says nervously "My lord, I apologize; I did not know you were here."

"Do not fret over it; it was not your fault." Domeric calmly replied back.

"How can I help you today my lord" asks Liam politely.

"I was just wondering how long have you been working here. You see, I was trying to get to know my people and soldiers better and maybe provide them some help if they are in need of it." He lied easily.

"I have been working for close to two years in these stables my lord." Stable boy replied nervously.

The nervousness was a mask that Liam was using, underneath that he was all calm and if Harry had been a lesser man he would have been deceived but it's nearly impossible to hide something from a man who has lived for more than two hundred and fifty years. He didn't need mind arts to see through his act.

"Oh and where did you use to work before coming to Dreadfort? By your accent and tanned skin I would say you come from south but your whole demeanor speaks north." Domeric inquired.

"Aye my lord, I used to work in King's Landing before coming here but I was born in a village ruled by House Bolton. So when I lost my job in the capital I decided to come back to north and serve my liege lord." Liam replied proudly while Domeric was somewhat surprised to learn that he truly did feel proud but there was also a hint of nervousness in his voice that Domeric did not miss. This made Domeric smile which seems to make Liam even more nervous. Domeric thought mirthfully 'good he is sweating a bit now and seems to be really nervous too. If he confesses then he will make for a good ally because he clearly is not terrified enough to make a confession so if he did confess, it will be out of loyalty towards my house and a smart move on his part. Let's go for the kill then, shall we'

"Oh, you seem to have kept in contact with the people in capital. I saw you a few days back when you were sending a letter with a supply wagon bound for King's Landing." Domeric stated as though he suddenly remembered the whole damn thing and was not planning the conversation for weeks.

Realization dawns in Liam's brown eyes and they widen a bit. 'He knows, he knows, oh god what am I going to do. He is going to kill me, shit.' Liam panics but then a thought comes to him and he starts to calm down a bit 'He knew it for weeks so if he wanted to kill me then he would have done so by now, then he definitely wants something from me but what? It does not matter at the moment I will be getting my answer very soon either way, I better confess the whole thing and hope for the best' Liam concludes smartly.

"My lord" Liam says and bows his head in shame. There, he made his silent confession and truthfully no words were needed as both people knew of the truth and what was at the stake here.

Domeric took a moment and let the silence stretch for a bit before simply asking "why?"

Head still bowed and tears in his eyes Liam replies "Lord Baelish have my sister in his possession and he ensured me that she will be safe as long as I served as a spy for him. If I did not comply by his demands he warned me that he will make my sister into one of his whores. I never wanted to betray you, my lord, but I had no choice I love my sister and I wanted to keep her safe." His voice wavered at the mention of his sister.

"Rise Liam" Domeric commands softly and the stable boy instantly complies. Domeric continues "I cannot say that I understand what you and your sister must be going through as I do not have a sister of my own, I sympathize with you but it still does not excuse you from treason that you committed against House Bolton." Liam's features instantly drops and his shoulders slumps down even further. Domeric then says strongly "But your crimes can easily be pardoned if you decide to work as my man. Swear your allegiance to me and I will try everything in my power to save your sister from that swine and bring her back to you. I know it is not much of a choice but I vow to you I will never ask you to do something that I myself would not do and you will always be welcomed in my halls to rest and eat, all you have to do is declare your loyalty to me in front of the Old Gods." At the end of his offer he was smiling gently towards Liam.

Seeing the little lord's smile and hearing his offer Liam was filled with joy but hid it well and instead replied strongly "I swear my loyalty to you my lord."

Domeric asks Liam to meet him in godswood late at that night. Harry did not believe in gods in his previous life but this place was different; it brought him peace and quiet. He felt a powerful, very powerful, presence in godswood which led credence to the fact that there was someone in the woods. The Old Gods, the children of the forest, green-seer, he did not know which or if there were more than one but he knew someone was there, watching the world from the shadows. The magic in godswood was heavy, maybe as heavy as it was in forbidden forest. It is said that the godswood of Dreadfort were very ancient, at least a couple millennia old. Domeric felt the magic and considered them true.

They both did their regular duties for the rest of the day and acted like nothing had changed but both knew their very lives have changed that morning.

For Domeric, he found an opening in Baelish's spy network and came one step closer to establishing his own spy network. As Harry Potter, he had been played as a pawn by too many. If there was anything that Harry truly hated; it was becoming a stepping stone for more ambitious people.

He knew that he could develop this place a lot, introduce new technology, build new structures, teach new science and mathematics but he was also aware that it would hinder the development of world at large. They will become dependent on him, in a sense it was good but in long term they will become lazy. Domeric wanted them to discover science on their own, back on earth the society did not develop in some years, it took centuries for common people to accept the fact that the earth was round and not flat. So, Domeric decided to limit his 'discoveries' and 'inventions'.

For Liam he came one step closer in freeing his sister from mockingbird's clutches. He had been oppressed for too long; he wanted to be part of something bigger, something far more lucrative and grand than being a stable boy and another spy of mockingbird. By the Old Gods, he was going to do just that.

 **To be continued...**

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 **I would like some honest reviews about the story this far. This is the first time that I am writing a fanfiction and will admit that I am both nervous and excited to see your response.**

 **Stay tuned ;)**


	4. Chapter 4: Networks

**Chapter-4: Networks**

A small figure makes its way through the corridors of Dreadfort while remaining concealed in the shadows. It was close to midnight and Domeric was hurriedly making his way to the godswood. He arrived to see Liam already waiting there near the Heart tree. It was nearly a full moon which provided him with enough light to navigate through the godswood.

Domeric soon stood before Liam and commanded, "Kneel."

Liam knelt, head bowed and eyes firmly locked with the ground.

Domeric spoke, "Do you Liam Frost of Dreadfort; swear in front of Old Gods that you will remain forever loyal to me, Domeric of House Bolton. That you will serve me honorably and faithfully, that my enemies are now yours, that you will never divulge my secrets nor do anything that bring disgrace to my name. Do you swear so, Liam Frost of Dreadfort?"

Liam looked up to him and said firmly, "I do, my lord."

Domeric commanded, "Then rise Liam, in return of your vow I vow that you shall always have place at my home, you will always find mead and meat at my table and I would never ask you to do something that will bring dishonor to you." They clasped their hands together in a show of the bond that they now share.

Domeric started the conversation saying. "When I discovered you I was quite surprised, but when I thought about it I should have known better, House Bolton is second most important noble house in the north and will have attention of all the major players of the game, no matter how small."

Liam listened with complete attention while Domeric continued, "It is both a good and a bad thing. The good thing is that they think us important enough to send their spies to Dreadfort; this means we hold some sway on them, not much but still some is better than none."

Here he paused before telling, "On the other hand, important information on my habits, guard detail, advisers, fighting style and the weapons that I use, and what not can be used against me. They will know which weaknesses I have and will no doubt, try to exploit them."

Liam looking troubled replied "Then we would have to find them soon, my lord. I am sure Varys, the Master of Whisperers, have at least one of his little birds here if not more and I know another agent of littlefinger in the town. I'm sorry my lord but I'm unsure of any other nobles besides Tywin Lannister, I do not know more about the land and other nobles beside the common knowledge." He looked sheepish by the end of his speech.

"Your lack of knowledge can prove to be troublesome in the long run but no matter we will remedy it soon enough. Now some spies I'm sure can be converted to our cause like you but some of the most troublesome would have to be taken care of and the others we will have to keep an eye on to, we will have to ensure that we do not tip them off otherwise they will flee, when the time comes we will strike them hard and fast." Domeric cautioned Liam, as he will be in charge of this operation.

Liam nods his head in understanding and replies positively. After that they both said their goodnights and went back to their beds.

For the next few moons, Liam and Domeric launched a personal campaign against all the spies in the castle. A kitchen wench named Suzie was discovered as one of the spies working for Varys. Domeric decided that he did not plan to be poisoned anytime soon and asked Marcus to assign her as a cleaner of the guard quarters which will keep her away from the main castle. He then asked Liam to recruit the head cook to keep an eye on the wenches and other cooks working there, he was sure another one will pop up soon enough.

Next one came as quite a surprise to both of us when another stable boy, Salvo who was a good acquaintance with Liam was found to be working for Tywin Lannister. He was only doing it for the money so we decided to permanently take care of him. Liam strangled him to death and then I imperiused some guards to secretly dump him in Weeping Waters. Everyone presumed that he had simply drowned while bathing when his body was found the next day.

Another one that came in our notice was a young maid named Yuma; she was a cleaning lady that worked in the main castle, particularly in heir wing, she was in league with Varys, so to ensure that she did not give him any information about my personal movements. He had her assigned in servant quarters and made sure to change a few of other servants' assigned duties to make it seem like it was just through coincidence that Domeric changed both of the littlebirds' assignment.

Lorenz Lance, now that was a person who will haunt Domeric for a long time. He was caught by Liam while sending a letter to his employer. He was working as the court reporter who documented any and all proceedings pertaining criminal cases of lands in domain of House Bolton.

He was employed by Olenna Tyrell; apparently he was his grandfather's bastard, and his father didn't know about his existence. He was hoping to become Lord of Dreadfort after killing both the current heir and his father. Lady Tyrell had promised to help him in proving his legitimacy to become the next Lord Bolton in exchange of gaining a new ally in the north.

Domeric furiously thought to himself, 'It's official now. I hate both Tyrells and Lannisters. Both are a bunch of overly ambitious ruthless dishonorable arrogant cunts. They think they are being very clever and their gold will always keep them safe. Let's see if they will survive crossing blades with me when the time comes'

He imprisoned him in cells of Dreadfort and left the fate of the man in his father's hand. He won't do anything for now, but when the opportunity presents itself, Tyrells' will pay. He had no doubt that his father will be setting his own plans in motion to take his own vengeance upon them. If his father flayed the man, Domeric would remember to send the skin to Lady Tyrell as a present to remind her who she had been messing with.

Baelish's second agent was unsurprisingly a whore; Kylie was working in the town's brothel. She was a good enough woman who was spying on Baelish's order to earn some extra coins for her son. Offering to pay twice what Baelish was paying and reminding her that he was still her liege lord convinced her to forever change her loyalties, that and well some compulsion charms may have something to do with it.

Liam and he encountered many spies. Most of them were passive in their spying, so were left to their own devices. Few others were eliminated and even fewer were made double agents. Liam with Domeric's help established a spy and informant network in the castle and the town around. He looked after the network but knew that Domeric was the boss. They had a good working relationship.

The new spymaster was also progressing well in his self-study. He had somehow acquired services of a sell-sword who was teaching him lessons on weapon and hand to hand combat. The news of Greyjoy being defeated at Pyke reached Dreadfort through a raven from Winterfell. Domeric asked Marcus to arrange for a small feast in celebration of their victory upon his father's arrival. It will do the arriving war trodden soldiers some good and will better the relationship between House Bolton and their sworn levies.

But all was not good, Lord Bolton will be arriving soon, this means that he won't be able to do things as freely as he was doing in his absence. During his spy hunt, he and Liam discovered many of his father's own spies. Most of them were in town since he didn't really need spies in a castle where every single person reports to either him or Steward Marcus; who knew better than to betray his father. Domeric personally relocated the more troublesome ones, one way or another.

While waiting for his father's arrival he started working on a new project. He trusted most of his spies and Liam but was not naïve enough to think that none of them will ever betray him. So, for this reason he started working on a runic necklace, it was nothing remarkable really just a circular silver pendant of 2 cm hanging from a leather cord. Enchantments and runes done on silver were powerful and long-lasting.

Domeric inscribed runes to enforce loyalty but was careful enough so that they did not become fanatics. He added a strong compulsion rune on necklace so that a spy does not remove the necklace. He also added an anti-theft and a strong notice-me-not for the necklace itself, it won't do if it was stolen. There was an intent detection rune which was tied to a notice-me-not rune, a sound and smell dampening rune. So when a spy wanted some stealth, the runes will help him. It was not overly powerful but subtle enough to help a spy and increased the success rate by at least three times; he knew as he personally tested them.

The tracking spells and some other runes that allowed him to know if the spy was discovered by someone or if their mind was being invaded. He also added remote location kill switch, it will zap them to death without any kind of visible signs. He knew it was wrong but he was also making their life easy in return of their loyalty, besides, the price would be too high if one of them was discovered so early in the game.

The tracking spell, kill switch, enchantments related to mind invasion and spy discovery were tied to a large thin slab of silver which gave information on a spy's rank, location, current occupation, health and if some particular job that was given to them as well as their discovery. The enchantments and runes had to be renewed every 5 years but it was still a small price to pay in exchange for the best god damn spy network in Westeros.

* * *

 **I thank you all for your support and reviews. I read all of them and tried to reply as much as possible. Things will be getting more interesting by chapter-5 and the chapters themselves will also be getting longer. Hope you enjoyed it ;)**


	5. Chapter 5: Return from the war

**Chapter-5: Return from the War**

Domeric was now eight years old and was waiting for his father Lord Roose Bolton to arrive with his host at Dreadfort. It has nearly been a year since he last saw his father, he did not miss his father per say but he was getting tired and restless of his lordly duties as of late. He greatly disliked his father but still respected him for his cunning, ambitions and intelligence. His musings were cut short by the sound of arriving horses. He along with everyone present in the courtyard kneels on his lord father's arrival. His father easily got off his horse and calmly approached Domeric.

"Rise" Roose softly commands his son.

Domeric followed by others stands from his previous position. Roose Bolton inspects his son and notices the slight change in height, stance and muscle mass that his heir had undergone in his absence.

"You have started your training, I see." Lord Bolton says matter-of-factly with a hint of approval in his cold eyes.

"Aye, I have been training in the art of throwing knives and archery." He said evenly but with a bit of pride in his voice.

A ghost of smile crosses Roose Bolton's face at his son's declaration and he replies, "Good, you are going to need it if you want to survive in this world."

Lord Bolton then looks around the courtyard and notices the well kept condition in which it presently was. He then says approvingly, "It looks like you have been keeping up with your lordly duties."

"Aye but let us retire to the great hall for the small feast that I have organized in your victory. There are several important matters that need your immediate attention; I would like to talk to you alone in Lord's solar after the feast to discuss those matters." Domeric tells his father seriously that seems a bit out of place on face of a seven year old boy.

Seeing his son's serious face Roose wonders what can be the matter that can make his heir this serious and dare he say commanding. 'It appears Gods have blessed me with a good heir. He will make a good lord, if he survives the world to reach his adulthood that is.'

He says, "Then let us be off. I am curious to see what matters you want to discuss with me that requires such urgency," and then starts marching towards the great hall.

 _Domeric's POV…_

I followed my father to the great hall where various minor lords and soldiers who swore allegiance to my father were waiting for us to start the feast. After taking his seat my father made a short speech which I didn't bother to listen, the small feast started. The soldiers were particularly happy and even some of the minor lords thanked and congratulated me on successfully organizing my first ever feast. 'If only they knew how many parties and balls I had to throw as the Minister of Magic and the Chief Warlock' I thought wryly.

After the feast I followed my father to the Lord's solar. We calmly took our seats and remained silent for a moment and then my farther demanded "what was the matter you wanted to talk about."

"I caught a spy." I replied and enjoyed the slightly surprised look that shown on my father's face, it was not easy to surprise my father so it was a refreshing change.

"Tell me everything," he practically ordered me.

"Three moons back I was having trouble sleeping. So, I decided to visit godswood to find some peace of mind. It was around midnight and as I was making my way there I noticed a figure silently moving towards the back garden of the castle. I stealthily followed him and watched him as he sent someone a letter through a raven. In the moonlight, I managed to find his face and I was surprised to see none other than Lorenz Lance."

Domeric continued after taking a short pause, "For a whole moon cycle I and one of the stable boys that I rallied to my cause, kept an eye on him. When we were sure he was a spy I collected some guards and searched through his possessions and found some weapons and a poison that maester Wolkon was unable to identify, and as the luck would have it he was arrested red-handed when he was sending another letter to his employer by yours truly" by the end of my monologue I was grinning like the cat that caught the canary, which I did.

"Quite cunning of you, I hope you interrogated him thoroughly." He asked me softly but there was a cruel glint in his eyes.

"Oh he was acting all tough in the beginning but once I asked the guards to bring me your flaying tools he started to sing like a bird but the songs that he sang were anything but sweet," by the end of my speech my voice had gone cold, hard and wrathful, and then I told him everything that I discovered about Lorenz, about his connection to Tyrells and everything that the letter contained.

I observed him as I told him everything. By the end of my speech he had gone from angry to furious to downright murderous. It took him a moment to digest what I told him in which time he started to calm down a bit however his body was still tense which told me he was far from being calm. He regarded me a bit before sighing heavily and leaning back in his seat.

After collecting himself he said to me proudly, "You did an excellent job in handling my father's bastard, I do not want to think what would have happened had you not discovered him by the time that you did," he sounded troubled and he was correct in being troubled. He could have poisoned us and nobody would have suspected a thing. If I had not known him I would have missed the signs but I can clearly see he was furious and a bit unnerved.

"House Tyrell made a dangerous mistake by plotting against our house and they will rue the day they decided to cross us. But it is neither here nor there; we are not powerful enough to stand against House Tyrell as of now. We will need allies and a lot more military power than we currently hold. We will discuss this matter at a later date in more detail but for now I wish to interrogate our prisoner. Your assistance won't be required any longer," declared my father. Since I was dismissed I took my leave and made my way towards my room, I too needed some time to think.

'I have achieved all of the objectives that I wanted to but still there is lot of work that has to be done to ensure my safety. I am still in very weak position on the board. I can gather at most a force of some four thousand troops which though more than most of the northern houses is still small compared to more powerful of the southern houses.' Domeric ponders to himself as he reaches his room. He sits heavily on his bed and relaxes against the soft pillows.

'I have gained some very powerful enemies it's time to acquire some powerful allies too but how, the question remains. Being fostered by a Lord will allow me to bond with his heir and will win me a lifelong ally and friend. I can easily gain an ally in any of the northern houses but we are already allied by serving the same liege lord, so north is out. I can try my luck in Riverlands but I don't think any of them will be useful in case of war and it may even come to backfire on me as I will be honor bound to help them and in an all out war Riverlands will be first to be invaded due to its already established alliance with The North and its strategic position'

'Westerlands is out of question, I don't want to roam near lion's den when I am so weak and vulnerable. Crownlands will bring too much attention but not enough power. Stormland is too far away and between three Baratheon brothers they have enough infighting to last many a lifetimes, I don't think there is room for more.

Reach, do I even have to think, fucking Tyrells, may they rot in hell. Dorne is an option but this will bring a lot of attention and it's too far away and Prince Doran's passive policy won't help me either.'

'This only leaves Vale which I actually think is the best option. They were allied with North in the last war, have strong military presence and unlike Lannisters and Tyrells have some honor. This will also allow me to progress some of my long term goals. Now the question that arises is where to in Vale.'

'House Arryn is out, it's a Great House which will bring too much attention and secondly there is no one there to foster me. House Waynwood and Redfort are good choices but nothing special. House Hardyng is not powerful enough even if Harry Hardyng is heir to the Vale which I doubt will stay for long.' He frowned in thought.

Domeric walks to his desk and takes a map of Westeros out of a drawer and unfolds it over the table top. 'Hmmm, let's see, there is Gulltown but there are too many noble houses in the city and each one will try to gain control over me. I will be swept in whirlwind of politics and would have no time for my projects which need to be done.' He walks to the side table and pours some water for himself and contemplates other options.

'House Royce of Runestone will be a good choice. They are an old and powerful family with roots to the First Men. They have no shortage of wealth and have gained respect from their fellow houses. Lord Yohn Royce will be a bit difficult to convince, from what I have heard he is prideful and stubborn fellow but I will find a way.'

He continues thinking, 'It is close to Gulltown from where I can travel to Essos and King's landing and maybe even Oldtown, something to think about. The more I think about it the better it sounds. The only problem I see is Lord Royce trying to marry one of his daughters to me but I am sure I can convince him otherwise either by my silver tongue or by some compulsion charms. I won't be marrying for anything less than love.'

'I would have talk to father about this at a later date' thought Domeric to himself. He then continued making plans for the future.

End

* * *

 **I wanted to know if first person POV works better or the third person POV.**


	6. Chapter 6: Departure

**Chapter-6: Departure**

Life was going good for one Domeric Bolton. The now eight year old boy was practicing archery in training yard with his father's Master of arms, Ser Wayne Planter. While practicing, Domeric was contemplating his new life so far in Westeros. In the recent months Liam's hard work had yielded some good results and now his spy network covered all of the major castles and towns in North, Liam even managed to get a spy in the famous or rather infamous Night's Watch. The best thing about his spy network was that no one even knew about its existence; yet.

Domeric collects his weapons and equipments and starts making his way to his chamber. He thought, 'I think it's time that I discussed my plans for being fostered in Runestone with my father. Then we will have to find a way to make Yohn Royce agreeable to our terms. Our houses do not have any blood ties like House Stark does, so we would have to offer something of extreme importance to him. Now the question that remains is what.'

Domeric asks a servant for his father's whereabouts and is told that his father was last seen in Godswood. While walking towards Godswood he mulls over his options 'I could have helped him with mountain clans but Runestone is already free from them. I don't want to use magic to get the work done, I am not fond of subjecting a person to my will who have done nothing wrong against me and I am not really sure how long I can maintain the charms.'

'This leaves marriage as an option which I sure as hell won't be agreeing upon. House Royce is famous for their Bronze runic armor and they are rumored to have less than twenty or so left in their possession. I can easily make some of these armors; all I have to do is draw the runes of First Men on the front and use the runes that will actually work on the underside of the armor which I will then cover up using high quality leather. Yes, this can actually work. Gods, I am brilliant.' Domeric thinks giddily.

He finds his father taking a walk through godswood and thinks, 'he is probably planning and plotting House Tyrell's destruction.'

He reaches his lord father and fall in steps beside him. They walk in silence for a few minutes before Roose indicates his son to speak.

Domeric begins "I had an idea the other day but I wanted to think on it for a bit before bringing it to your attention." At his father's nod he continues "I know you wanted me to be fostered by Lord Redfort but I think Lord Royce will be a much better choice."

Lord Bolton stops and turns to face his son and study him for a long moment and then calmly asks in voice filled with carefully masked curiosity, "What makes you so certain that Runestone is better than Redfort for your fostering."

"For one they are more powerful than House Redfort and can gather a force of about four thousand soldiers which is equal to our own. Secondly, House Royce has a small fleet that they can use to come to our aid within a moon's time at Dreadfort or in Riverlands in even less time where most of the wars are fought. Thirdly, while in Runestone I can board ships to King's Landing and Essos from Gulltown. It will give me a chance to increase our influence in the capital which frankly at the moment is pathetically low," declared Domeric to his father and let the Bolton lord ponder on the points that he made.

"You make good points but I will have to think on it before making any kind of decision. I will further discuss it with you when I have reached some conclusions on my part," Roose announces to his son, after which they talked about a few other matters before splitting up and heading to finish their duties.

A week after the discussion with his father, some interesting information came across young Domeric's notice. The poison that Lorenz was found with was confirmed as Tears of Lys. The infamous poison was detected with the help of Maester Luwin of Winterfell and Maester Aemon of Night's Watch. From what he had heard of the poison it was extremely expensive and was only available to elites who usually had some powerful contacts in Essos.

His father was not happy before the discovery but now he was downright nasty. From what Liam told him, he tortured Lorenz to death. Domeric knew he was not going to be happy but even he did not expect him to be this violent. Anyway when his father asked Maester Wolkon to dispose of the poison he confounded the maester into giving him the poison, it was expensive, rare and useful and if nothing else ,can earn him a small fortune after being sold to an interested party.

Domeric kept practicing in his archery and throwing knife skills. His aim was rather good because of using spells for so long but he still needed to learn the proper techniques and way of handling different weapons to truly master the art. If his instructors were to be believed, by his sixteenth name day he will be a master of both weapons and can even win some of the southern tourneys.

The idea of being champion in a tourney organized by the King himself was pleasant for Domeric, he was a rather competitive lad these days and the glory that his house and more importantly the North will gain from this kind of tourney win will be immense. It will also bring him credibility that he currently lacks due to being heir of House Bolton.

* * *

A fortnight after the discussion, Domeric was called to his father's solar to discuss his fostering arrangements. As Domeric was making his way towards the solar, Roose Bolton was thinking about his son.

He knew he was not an ideal father and what you will call a good parent but he did not have time and most importantly the patience required to raise the child. He did what he could but without his late lady-wife it was not going so well. Though, he will probably never admit it aloud, he was proud of his son. He thanked the Gods everyday for giving him a good heir. Even though the child was raising himself, he was intelligent, strong, skilled and well-mannered. He was mature and smart; sometimes too smart for his own good.

He had stopped thinking about Domeric as a child long ago, how can you call a three year old a child when he can outwit you any time of the day. He had his suspicions and theories but each one as outlandish as the other. But it was not the matter that was currently plaguing his thoughts. On one hand he knew all the advantages that his heir had pointed out were valid but on the other hand he was hesitant to send his son to Vale and have him raised into an honorable fool.

However, he was soon convinced as he knew his son was too intelligent for it. Aye, he had his integrity but he was too smart, scarily so, to fall for this tripe. His self musings were cut short by a knock on the door.

"Come in" He calmly ordered.

 _Domeric's POV…_

I knocked at the door as soon as I reached my father's solar.

"Come in" the cool tone of my father greets me as I walk in for the meeting.

"You called for me father." I replied softly with a curious and questioning lilt to my voice.

"Aye, after much thinking and discussing it with your Aunt Barbrey and Maester Wolkon I have discovered your idea to have a lot of merit. I would like to send Lord Royce our proposal but I fear he won't foster you out of the goodness of heart and I do not want a southern bride for you unless she is from a Great House which I know won't be happening anytime soon," my father replied softly but firmly to my inquiry.

There was a moment of silence between us before I started speaking again, more for my benefit than his. "Then it means we will have to send him some gift of sort with a rider if we want him to foster me in Runestone. Luckily for us, I had expected this sort of thing. But still I am open to some suggestions."

If my father was a bit surprised by my foresight he hid it well or maybe he was coming to expect this sort of things from me and was less surprised these days. He remained quiet for some time before finally replying in negative in absolutely flat tone which did little to hide his annoyance and frustration from me.

"I have an idea for the gift but it will take at least a fortnight to prepare, after which we can send some riders with it and a letter with your proposal explaining that he will be given an item similar to the gift if he chose to accept our proposal. Furthermore I think we should ask him to take me as a squire after my tenth name day." I explained him my plan and used a powerful compulsion charm to go along with my plan without asking any questions about it.

"How long do you plan to be a squire for Lord Royce" my father asked me calmly. I started thinking about my long term plans and how long it will take me to finish them. I decided that next seven years will be sufficient and with a bit of hard work I can become a full fledged knight by my fifteenth name-day. Younger people have been knighted before so it won't be a big issue. But I will have to travel far and wide to do everything that I have in mind which can only be accomplished with magic's help. I decided to ponder on it later in my room's privacy. I was in bad habit of thinking out loud so decided to plan when I can get some alone time.

"I think till the time I get my knighthood. I will try to gain what these southerners amount for knighthood as soon as possible and I am positive that I will celebrating my sixteenth name-day here at Dreadfort." I answered him.

"Bold claim don't you think but who am I to stand between you and your goal. However, I would not allow you to become a knight; we are of House Bolton, we do not follow the false gods of the Faith of the Seven and knighting is a ceremony that those Andal invaders conducted," my father told me heatedly and firmly.

"Who said anything about following The Seven, all I will have to do to get myself knighted will be to pretend to listen to their gibberish and swear some false oaths. You are not seeing the advantage of me getting the knighthood, I will be able to participate in jousting tourneys which I am certain will become my strongest skill and earn some fame for our house and I am sure you have heard how much the king likes to conduct these tourneys and no one without a knighthood is allowed to enter in jousting" I argued just as heatedly and gave him a piercing glare which seems to silence my father for a moment.

Why my father is being such a traditionalist and hardcore moron, oh right because I am stuck in fucking middle ages. Oh how I miss my previous world, well no use crying over spoiled milk. He then replies thoughtfully as though this whole damn thing was his idea.

"Very well then, if you managed to win any good tournaments as a knight I will give you command over a force of some hundred soldiers that will work directly under you and you can even use your personal banner."

Wow, all I have to do is use some pretty words like glory, prestige and legacy and my small-minded fool of a father will go along with anything that I say, not only that he will reward me for it. Good for me and bad for him then. For the remainder of the meeting we discussed some other matters and hammered out some more details regarding my possible fostering at Runestone.

For the remaining week I busied myself in designing the armor and instructing the castle blacksmith in its construction. It was tedious process for sure put I pulled through and by the end of the week my base armor was ready.

In the second week I double silver-coated it at the front and inscribed the runes of the First Men on it, then I triple silver-coated it on its underside. Following this I drew Greek and Celtic runes on its underside and then used burnt leather of bronze color to cover the whole thing. I then drew some exotic looking patterns on the burnt leather that hid the runes for everlasting sticking and protection against wear and tear that I drew on the leather. By the end of second week my armor was ready. I then tastefully painted it in House Royce colors.

It was plate armor and there was nothing too complex in its design but this is where its simplicity ended. Due to being silver-coated it gained a silvery shin to it and out in open it looked radiant and eye-catching. The helmet was a simple great helm with slits for eyes and a number of tiny holes for breathing near nose and mouth. The rest of armor especially the breastplate, greaves and gauntlets were covered in runes. The armor was quite heavy and could be used as both heavy infantry and heavy cavalry armor.

I asked father to arrange for transportation through White Harbor as it cost us a pretty penny , or pretty stags as people here in Westeros calls it, and the last think I want at the moment is for some mountain clan or bandit to get their hands on it. Westeros could do without a super bandit roaming around for the time being.

Either way, Lord Royce was very happy to receive the armor and was already sending some thirty household guards to White Harbor to collect me and my small party. I took Liam and twenty other Bolton men out of which four that I handpicked will be going with me to Runestone. Liam was able to deceive Baelish into thinking that I had personally demanded his service during my stay in Runestone which was entirely true but Baelish did not know about my true reasons. Anyway, it was decided that we will depart from Dreadfort in a moon's time as the Royce household would be arriving in two moons at White Harbor.

* * *

As I and my party were making our way to White Harbor, I was contemplating my last month in Dreadfort. The last month was spent making a runic sword and dagger pair for Lord Royce as he was **eagerly** awaiting the arrival of his promised second gift. The forging of sword and dagger was easier compared to the armor but no less important.

The sword was a beautiful two-handed double-edged longsword which classified it as a great sword. The pommel was circular in shape which contained runes used in sigil by House Royce. The grip was covered in boiled leather of bronze color and the cross-guard was rectangular in shape and was made from bronze. The thing that was truly remarkable about the whole sword was the blade.

It was covered in the runes of First Men and some other tribal designs that hid the ancient Celtic runes that were drawn out on the blade. I forged the sword from castle steel with great care with the help of some of the local blacksmiths. Similarly, the dagger was forged from castle steel and the grip was covered in boiled leather. The cross-guard was made of bronze and was tilted towards the end. The blade of dagger, like that of the sword, was double edged and covered in runes; it was perfect weapon for blocking, parrying and stabbing.

I left some space on both sword and dagger to carve the names and left it on Lord Royce to decide upon. Soon, we reached White Harbor and were forced to play twenty questions with the city guards and after showing them the proper documents, were allowed entry in the city walls.

I was guest of Lord Manderly for the rest of my time in White Harbor which was a grand total of two days. Lord Wyman Manderly, at the first glance appears to be a portly, overweight but a jovial sort of man who is more merchant than a ruler. However, under all the clothes and body fat the man possessed one of the sharpest minds in the entire Seven Kingdoms.

I did not interact much with the rest of his family during my stay there as they seemed to be uneasy around me; damn my Bolton ancestors and their weird fetish with flaying their enemies, it was already giving me headaches.

By the time my host's party had arrived, Liam had already employed a number of spies to further my cause in the port. We travelled for more than forty days on the ship to reach Runestone which had its own docks. While they were not as numerous and well built as those in Gulltown or White Harbor they were still useful.

For most of my time on the ship I was meditating to rediscover my animal form and as it was my first time at the sea, people simply assumed I was seasick and did not disturb me for which I was thankful. I made some good progress but nothing decisive. I was also learning High and Low Valyrian in more detail. I was proficient enough but I wanted to be flawless as most of the Essoi used Low Valyrian or some bastardized version of it while most of the nobles there used High Valyrian.

Finally the day arrived and there was a small company of men waiting for us at the docks and leading it was none other than Lord Yohn Royce, ruler of castle of Runestone and my future employer.


	7. Chapter 7: Fostering

**Chapter-7: Fostering**

I was surprised by Lord Royce's personal welcome but pleased nonetheless and quickly got off the ship to greet Royce lord or "Bronze Yohn" as people call him.

I calmly walked towards Lord Yohn and bowed my head and said, "Lord Royce I will like to thank you and House Royce on behalf of House Bolton for accepting our request. You do me great honor by taking me as your squire, my lord."

Lord Royce seemed both embarrassed and pleased by my proclamation. He replied back while smiling "It was no trouble at all young Bolton and it is I who truly am honored to have the heir to the Red Kings of Dreadfort as my squire."

We idly chatted for a bit while making our way to the castle proper. Runestone was similar to Dreadfort in many ways yet it still maintained its unique character. Both Dreadfort and Runestone were first constructed by the First Men, while Dreadfort remained more or less same even after the many renovations the castle went under Runestone had evolved a lot. While House Royce was proud of its roots, it has not remained untouched by Andal culture and this was shown in the castle's design and structure. Some towers were clearly older and had more Northern touch, for lack of better word, while others were fairly new and a lot more stylish and lavish compared to the older looking ones.

When we arrived at the castle I was shown my room and was told that Lord Royce has organized a small welcome feast in my honor. At the sound of feast I was immediately on guard, 'My armor won't have made such a big impression. I am sure he wants something from me but what it could be, god let it be anything other than a marriage proposal.'

He further thought, 'But if it was about a marriage proposal then he would have to talk to my father, maybe he just wants to make a good impression on me, a young boy of eight nearly nine. Or maybe he wants more armors or the secret behind making one which I am going to tell no one and I am certain he knows it to then what the hell does he wants. Well only time will tell but I won't get married on my father's order, not now or ever'

I made my way to the great hall following my escort. The great hall of Runestone was spacious with plenty of light coming from glass panels along the walls which I am sure would have cost a small fortune in itself. As my presence was announced I made my way towards the head table and indicated a servant to bring forth my gift for House Royce.

I announced, "Lord Royce as a token of thanks from House Bolton I would like to present you with this pair of runic sword and dagger. Though, it is a poor replacement compared to _Lamentation_ (Valyrian steel sword of House Royce) it still is better than any castle forged steel sword."

There were many oohs and ahhs after my presentation and Royce family looked incredibly happy and thankful so I decided to earn some more brownie points.

I said, "The great sword is of course for Lord of the House Royce but you can give dagger to any of your untrained children. It is good for blocking and stabbing and will help putting a good fight against attackers until help arrives."

Now Royce looked even more pleased if that was possible. He thanked me sincerely and then started the feast. Throughout the feast members of House Royce thanked and welcomed me repeatedly. I was asked by Lord Royce to meet in his solar after the feast. By the time the feast was finished it was already nearing midnight. I walked with Lord Royce to his solar making small talk with him along the way.

After we were seated he started by saying, "I once again welcome you to Runestone. Now first of all I want to ask about the runes that were carved on both the dagger and the sword, they are not runes of the First Men."

Sharp, that was the word that comes to my mind at the moment. "No, those were not the original runes of the First Men but their heavily modified versions created with the help of Children of forest, at least from what I was able to gather," I bullshitted easily with a complete straight face.

He seemed to accept it and then started discussing the finer details of his new toys. Soon the topic of training came up.

Yohn Royce asked "Tell me lad, have you undergone any type of weapon or hand to hand training."

I answered confidently, "Father did not allow me to train with any heavy weapons so I am adept in archery using a very light bow and I am also good at throwing knives and riding."

Lord Royce commanded, "For the next two years till you become my squire, you will be practicing sword fighting and will continue on improving your skills with bow and throwing knives. Once you become my squire you will start training in jousting and I will up your training in melee fighting as sword is not the only melee weapon available to you."

I nodded my head in acceptance and went to my room as soon as I was excused.

After initial excitement died down and things in Runestone returned to normal, Domeric was able to fit in with rest of the members of House Royce.

For the next two years Domeric trained and integrated himself in Royce household. Lord Yohn became like an uncle for Domeric and he greatly appreciated his help in sword training. Maester Helliweg was a constant source of information and sage advice. Royce household members quickly realized that I was very bright and smart kid so my lessons with maester and Lord Royce on politics and warfare were short and less frequent.

I took many tomes from the library for reading; this allowed me to explain the long hours that I usually spent cooped up in the solitude of my room. While people thought I was a scholar and was reading some books in my room I was actually meditating to complete my animagus training. The reason I was in hurry to complete it was simple; I knew that it was some kind of bird and I had a plan that would go smoother and faster this way.

Braavos and Pentos were not very far away from Runestone and I did not want to go on a lot of voyages, it was both incredibly boring and time consuming. Braavos was about 400 miles away from Runestone and Pentos some 600 miles. I could pretend to be under weather for a day or two and apply some muggle-repelling and notice-me-not wards on the room.

I could easily finish my business in that 48 hour window. I can possibly make these trips every six months or even every three months if it becomes necessary. My form had cleared out a bit and from what I could understand of it; I was a powerful bird and was closely related to eagle family that means that I could fly between 70-100 mph. If my last form was any indication it could be a magical bird and maybe I can even achieve 150 mph, something to ponder about at a later date.

While I was improving on my swordsmanship in leaps and bounds my semi-self training in archery and throwing knives was not going so well. It seemed to me like I have reached a block and need some professional guidance.

To that end, I asked help from Ser Andar Royce, Lord Royce's eldest son and heir. He was already an accomplished knight but the field that he excelled the most in was archery. We bonded over our shared love for archery and in that short time he came to see me as his little brother; what can I say, I just have this affect on people around me.

Although I didn't need to train in magical arts I still practiced it so that I didn't freeze up in a magical battle because I have no doubt I will be coming across some magical people while in Essos.

I was aware of the fact that though my magic was stabilizing it was still becoming more erratic and difficult to control. On further analyzing my core I realized that my magic was changing on some cellular or atomic level or whatever smallest particle level that existed for magical energy. Simply speaking my magic was changing or maybe even evolving from its very essence. While as Harry I could spam spells for hours on end, here as Domeric I could barely fight for two hours using my magic.

I knew my power levels were increasing as I age but even after reaching my full potential I will never be able to cast as many spells as I used to. It was a sobering thought and I decided then and there to research magic of the world in more details. I now understood that if I want to use magic out in the open I will have to improvise. I also upped finding a focal point in my list of things to do.

Now that I have lived in this world for some time I have begun noticing similarities between my previous world and this one. Western civilizations like America and Europe in my previous world were considered developed and advance while here Westeros especially Westerlands, Reach and Crownlands are considered epitome of luxury and comfortable life in this world.

In both the worlds, West is considered civilized and progressive while Essos is thought to be land of exotic people and mysterious cultures. The number of similarities medieval middle-east and pre-colonial Indian subcontinent had with Essos were numerous. From their continental climates and skin tone to their trade in spices and slaves, both had a lot of things in common. This allowed me to better perceive my new world and the people around me.

My relationship with other members of household was complex to say the least. Robar Royce, second son of Lord Royce was usually away as he was working as a squire for some Vale night, we both were able to form a friendship of sort. Waymar Royce, youngest son of Lord Royce however, was another matter entirely.

He considered himself to be my rival even though I was three years younger than him. He constantly tries to show me up but always falls short of succeeding. It quickly became a constant source of friction and tension between both of us. I didn't care one bit for this one-sided rivalry and this seems to make him even madder at me because I have somehow _slighted_ him.

My relation with Lord Royce's daughters was distant, it was simply because I did not want to be seen getting along with them. I don't want a stupid marriage contract to tie me down dammit, not if I can help it.

I didn't see Lady Royce often, sometimes only during meals. She was usually busy with household work and looking after her children especially her daughters. She is a cordial and warm host but we just didn't get any time to spend with each other.

Lord Royce's master-at-arms Ser Samwell Stone and I shared an interesting relationship. We spent a lot of time together in training yard. He was not only an excellent instructor and hard taskmaster but also an honorable man; there are not many of them in south, so I decided to make good relations with the one that I found. He in turn admired my dedication and growing prowess in fighting.

For the next eighteen months I did little other than training, meditating, learning and helping Liam with his spy network. The last one was progressing at a pace faster than I anticipated. Apparently, he had managed to induct a local information trafficker in his network who was also working against Baelish. His name was Bilius or Billy, as I started calling him. He was a bastard son of late Lord Coldwater.

Lord Coldwater provided him with education in childhood and then some money so that he could live safely until he found his own trade. His father and his only trueborn brother got trapped in one of the machinations created by Baelish. Baelish murdered them both so that he could place his man on the seat of Coldwater.

Late Lord Coldwater's younger brother was part of the scheme and was then named Lord Coldwater as his reward. Lord Coldwater and his son were allegedly killed by mountain tribes and the whole thing was then left uninvestigated. Billy was in Essos at that time but as soon as he learnt of his family's death he returned.

He then started investigating the mysterious murders with his step mother and met with many clans of Vale in that time. All the leads went cold except one which led him to his uncle. His confrontation with his uncle went poorly and he lost his step mother and a finger in his left hand but he did get Baelish's name from his uncle. Since then he had been trying to cut down Baelish's powerbase in Vale but had only small successes so when Liam offered him our help he readily agreed and became an important member of our network.

My network now included all the major houses of Vale and Liam even added a few contacts from King's Landing to it. I asked Liam to search some guides for me in Essos; one in Braavos, one in Pentos and lastly one for Lorath.

In this time we were able to root out all the enemy spies from Runestone, one way or another. We killed the Lannister spy quietly and made it seem like a natural death. I exposed the Tyrell spy to Lord Royce the same way that I did with my father, only that instead of me Liam was the one to capture him red-handed and without Tyrell trying to kill any member of House Royce.

Though it did not make "Bronze Yohn" any less wary of Tyrell, however, he was not angry. It was like he already expected a spy to be there. Maybe he was a lot more involved in southern politics than I presumed him to be.

We stayed away from spider's little birds as I didn't want spider's attention toward me so early in the game. Baelish was another matter, apparently he in his arrogance did not consider Liam working for me and pulled out his previous spy that was working in Runestone and gave that job to Liam.

Apart from that I found some weak wards around the castle which were similar to the wards around Dreadfort before I strengthened them. I worked hard on improving them a bit. It was extremely taxing to do so without actually knowing the location of the ward stones that were used to bind wards around the place. If I had to take a guess I would say they were buried with foundation or were placed in some hidden room.

It was night time and a now nine year old Domeric Bolton was making his way to the castle godswood. House Royce still maintained a godswood to honor their ancestors though it did not have any weirwood trees left. The only people to ever come here were Domeric and members of his small party. So here he was, sitting in a meditative trance and incredibly closed to bonding with his inner animal.

Suddenly where once Domeric Bolton sat was now occupied by a large bird of prey. The bird in question had the face of an eagle but the similarities ended there, it had three sets of large and powerful wings resting on its back. The bird was at least 7 feet tall. The bird had beautiful stormy grey feathers which were tinged royal-blue at ends.

It had crest of blue colored feathers which shined in the moonlight. Its tail feathers, like the rest of its body were storm grey but had intermingling blue feathers which formed a beautiful pattern on it. I knew what it was; it was none other the legendary Thunderbird.

I tried flapping my wings and let the instincts of the animal help me through the process. 'Fuck this is hard. Using two wings was far easier than this; it fell like I am once again a baby who is trying to learn how to walk. These coming few days I will have to practice hard if I want to take a trip before I turn ten.'

* * *

 **I had already written by the time asked reader's opinion on my choice of POV but the oncoming chapters will be in third person with occasional first person scenarios.**


	8. Chapter 8: A trip to remember

**Chapter-8: A trip to Remember**

Domeric continued to instruct himself in flying for the next couple of moons. Nothing interesting happened in the mean time except that Liam came through his promise to provide him with an escort in each of the free cities that he wanted to visit. All he had to do was walk up to his guide show him a locket, whisper a phrase and then hear another one back, confirm it to be correct and he will have a guide for the city. Nothing terribly complex but why make simple shit more complex if it works well, he thought.

It was a month before he would be turning up ten and he decided that the time was correct to start his adventures in Essos. He had already learned everything that he could about Essos in books from both Bolton and Royce libraries.

Liam by this time was already suspicious of him being supernatural so when he explained his plan, he was only slightly surprised. Domeric claimed to be a bit under weather during breakfast and asked them not to disturb him and only send Liam his chamber with lunch and dinner. He had set up many privacy wards around his room as soon as he could and was set to go.

After that he disillusioned himself and made his way out of the castle and to the highest cliff that he could easily reach. He looked around and after making sure that no one was watching him, jumped off the cliff. He transformed mid air and took off towards North-east.

One day, last month he had made a small excursion to Gulltown to find out how fast he was as a bird. It took him 15 minutes in reaching Gulltown at full speed which is 60 miles away from Runestone. So, he calculated that he should be able to maintain 200 mph for close to four hours before tiring out himself.

Domeric knew that he could go far faster than 240 mph, he had tried one time which resulted in massive thunderstorm and he had to fly another 250 miles to get back to Runestone because he lost all sense of direction and it was only thanks to his tracking charms that he timely made it back.

Two hours later, Braavos finally came in his sight and what a brilliant sight it was. The Titan of Braavos looked quite intimidating up close; this was the city that he did not want to mess with even after having full support of the Seven Kingdoms with him. The place had this aura that screamed 'Fuck with us and you won't live long to regret it'.

Before he completely lost himself to the wonders of the free city of Braavos he self-disillusioned himself, it was very difficult in his current form but it was possible. His form was a magical animal and worked as a conductor, for lack of better term, for magic. However he was larger as an avian and landed in an out of the way alley on one of the smaller islands.

He took the appearance of his old friend Neville, well what he looked like in his late forties. He wanted to blend in better so tanned his skin a bit. He also applied some powerful notice-me-not charms on himself and started making his way towards his guide.

Fortunately, he had landed just near the Purple Docks where his contact works during the day time. Domeric asked around for him and found him sitting on some crates near the docks. He was a young man in his mid twenties. He worked as a custom officer at the dock. Brown hair, grey eyes and a handsome if a bit pale face.

Domeric approach him and took a seat beside him, flashed him his locket and spoke, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," with a grin threatening to engulf his face, what can he say Domeric loved being a marauder.

He replied back just as mirthfully, "Mischief managed." We smirked to ourselves in amusement.

"Markov Gills at your service." He introduces himself while spreading his hands and dipping his head in greeting.

"Neville Longbottom, pleasure meeting you. I plan to be in city for at least a day." Domeric informed him.

"Then where to my friend?" Markov asked him.

"First to the Iron Bank, I have some debts to settle." He declared to him and pulled himself up.

He followed Markov as they made their way to the Iron Bank. As of now he had little in the way of actual money, sure he had his allowances and some other small sources of income but they were small compared to what he actually needed. He barely had some five thousand dragons at the moment which would be swallowed by his spy network alone in the next three months.

The pair soon reached the Iron Bank and he asked Markov to wait for him outside. He upped the power of his notice-me-not charm and hid behind a statue slightly in order to discreetly disillusion himself. He then silenced his footsteps and breathing and used an odor removing charm in order to avoid notice from any kind of guard dogs. He was excited and a bit nervous too but not overly so, after all it was not his first break in. He smirked humorously remembering his past escapade in Gringotts.

He then remembered his and quickly made his way in the building. Domeric swiftly went in search of one of the senior staff members. It took him some time but he had learned enough Braavosi (variation of Low Valyrian spoken in Braavos) from his studies in free cities to successfully overcome the language barrier.

He used imperius on the senior-account manager whose name he did not bother to find and asked information on the richest accounts under Iron Bank. He was provided some two hundred odd names that he quickly copied on the paper. A small fraction of them were unsurprisingly Noble or even Merchant houses from various parts of Westeros. He took the list; put the manager under a sleeping spell which would make him think that the whole meeting was just a part of his imagination and calmly strode out of bank.

He did not want to steal from the Iron Bank vaults as it will hurt the Bank instead of the people that he truly wanted to hurt; that and the fact that he was not magically powerful enough to face against the magicals that were guarding the vaults.

He walked out of the bank and in a less frequented alley where he quickly removed his charms except notice-me-not and strode towards Markov who was waiting for him a fair bit distance from the bank.

"Let's go to a good tavern, Lunch is on me." Domeric ordered him as soon as he stood beside him.

A neat and tidy looking tavern near purple docks was their new destination. As they walked in they drew some attention but their magical pendants quickly took care of it.

"This list here contains names of many powerful people, some of which reside here in Braavos. I want you to go through the list of people who are residents of Braavos and provide me with at least one name. The person in question must be considered as lowest of the scum." Domeric demanded of him.

He took the list from him and begun studying the names written on the parchment.

"What are the perimeters you are judging the men on," he asked with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Slaver for one, a tyrant will work too. A thief, liar and disgustingly dishonorable one will be even better." The wizard specified to him carefully.

"There are not many people like this in Braavos and if they somehow manage to come in power, they are swiftly taken care of either by magisters or by Sealord himself." He declared to him. Domeric was waiting for him to continue and was not disappointed.

"But, there is this magistrate who is also a major pearl exporter, Cardio Cloratio. If you want to target someone my friend, then you should target him. He has got some questionable connection with a lot of the Pentoshi magisters. He is the kind of magistrate who works in the slave trade behind closed doors and out of law's reach. Everyone knows it but it had never been proven before so the Sealord can do nothing about it." He explained the situation and the person in question to Domeric. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Markov understood his motivations almost instantly.

"Where does he live," he asked him after some time.

"He lives in a large mansion built on a private island which he shares with some of the other magistrates. The whole island is moderately secured by Braavosi forces and his mansion is heavily secured by his own men. Some say it's a death trap but judging from the expressions on your face I would say you don't really care." He told in turn and then smirked slightly.

"No I don't give a damn. Never had and I'm not going to start now." A grinning Bolton told him.

"Tonight I am going to rob him off his many earthly possessions. I will just leave him enough so that he could build himself again," Domeric admitted.

"And why would you leave him that much." He asked curiosity in a hard voice.

Domeric leaned forward and stage whispered to him when he also leaned forward to listen, "So that I can rob him again of course."

I leaned back and watched with a self-satisfied smirk as he worked his mouth soundlessly with a dumbstruck expression carved on his face as if he could not believe it.

After a moment he regained his composure and questioned him angrily, "And what about the people who will suffer for his ambitions, people he will enslave, families that he will destroy. What will you do for them?"

He quickly lost his smirk and said to him grimly, "Listen to me kid, I have been in this business for far longer than you and I know how these things work. People like Cardio are snakes; you cut one's head off and two others take its place. Besides, what makes you so sure that the next one won't be even worse?" As Domeric continued his argument, Markov deflated quite a bit but now instead of anger there was frustration from not being able to do anything. So, Domeric decided to take pity on him and tried to explain some facts of life.

"Look I want to help common people as much as you do and I do help them whenever I can. But you can't help people who don't want to help themselves. Everyone is so happy to be a bloody pacifist that if you make any kind of effort, you immediately become an outcast in the society." Domeric made his point.

After sitting thoughtfully for some minutes, he exhaled a long breath and said "You are right of course. You can't free a man who doesn't want to be freed."

Domeric then added when he still saw some doubt lingering in Markov's eyes. "Look, we are not powerful enough to stop it altogether and frankly, I doubt we ever will be. So, the next best thing that we can do is to regulate it or control it. We can do things like put some laws for the protection of slaves, minor things like these can help them a long way if enforced correctly."

Markov brightened up a bit after that. They continued their idle chit-chat for another hour or but the tavern was getting busier so they left for the docks.

They talked some more at the docks, during which Domeric asked the younger man how he knew so much about Cardio. Apparently he was not the first person who wanted to get his hands on his gold.

By the time evening rolled out they had discussed many topics, most of which were related to Braavos and its political climate.

It was getting late so he asked his escort to take him to the dear magistrate's mansion. To say the mansion was massive would be an understatement; it was a small palace in itself. From what he could see, it was made entirely of white marble and polished red stone. The place radiated opulence and luxury at the level he had as of yet not seen in this world. It was surrounded by walls some twenty feet high on all sides and littered with archers, positioned on the multiple roofs and balconies.

Domeric circled the island in his bird form and was able to find a temporary blind spot in mansion's defenses. It provided him with a five minute window in which he had time to scale the wall of island and dodge from the patrol, scale the outer wall of the mansion, cross the back lawn and then climb the first floor balcony while remaining out of sight of archers on the second floor before another patrol arrives and catches him.

He of course could have simply disillusioned himself, waltz inside the place, stolen whatever he wanted, killed whoever he wanted, shrunk his 'acquired' goods and made his way out of the place before they even knew what was happening but where was the fun in that. So, he was determined to do it the old fashioned way.

As the night approached, he got out of the small boat that they had used that evening during their scouting. He asked Markov to come and collect him on receiving the signal. He asked what the signal was and all Domeric told him was that when the time comes, he will know, all the while chuckling amusingly. It annoyed him, he could tell but there was nothing he could do to make Domeric spill the beans.

He swam toward the island and easily made his way towards the shore without getting detected. He watched the guard patterns and waited for a particular combination and when it finally happened Domeric quickly scaled the island wall, there were enough climbers growing up along the wall that another twenty people could have scaled the walls by his side.

As the first border patrol vanished out of site, he quickly ran towards the outer mansion wall and scaled it with the help of a grapple hook and the occasional cracks running along the wall. He sprinted across the back lawn and started climbing towards the first floor balcony.

He reached the balcony easily without being detected and made his way inside the mansion. As soon as he was out of sight a pair of guards patrol past the place in the back lawn. He found Cardio soaking in the bathtub attached to his chambers.

It was swiftly followed by knocking out the guards with a simple chop on the neck. Although he did not learn any weapon fighting skills in his previous life, he did learn martial arts and eventually mastered more than one form of the art. These past years, even while learning new skills he kept practicing his forms; it was an advantage that unlike magic could be used in public so he kept his skills sharp for the field.

Domeric subjected him to imperius and asked him to show the places that he kept his money and valuables in, hidden or otherwise. He passed a handful of guards, they were either sent away by magistrate on his command or he managed to slip by them undetected.

He took different kinds of currency from his treasury. He filled many chests with Braavosi coins that were equal in amount to two-hundred thousand gold dragons, fifty thousand gold dragons and a hundred thousand gold dragons in form of Pentoshi coins.

Braavosi coins were made of iron and took more trunks than Domeric expected but it didn't really matter in the end, he will just feather-light them. He still left Cardio with some two-hundred thousand gold dragons worth of coins and most of his gems and other valuables.

Beside coins, he only took some small gems, a small ring-sized black diamond that stuck his fancy and some dragon bones for his wand. He then obliviated the knowledge of what happened out of Cardio's mind and started walking towards his pick up point while casting flame spells left, right and center.

He was careful to set things on fire that burned slowly but also produced a lot of smoke; he did not want to kill any innocent servants after all.

He reached the shore enlarged the chests and waited for Markov to arrive which he promptly did. They loaded the chests and covered them with sea-weed and made their way back to the docks. No one was around to stop them so all the precautions proved to be an unnecessary ordeal but it was better to be cautious.

They arrived at the docks and unloaded their _acquired_ goods. "That was some quick and neat work." Markov praised him.

"Aye, it was some good work." Domeric accepted it graciously. They stood there in silence for a minute before he started speaking again.

"How are your sword skills?" the wizard asked him out of the blue.

"I am better than eight out of ten swordsmen that strut around here calling themselves water dancers. But, I have not used a blade in a while." He admitted quietly.

"Then brush up on your sword skills because I have a proposal for you." Domeric announced to him.

"What?" He asked him a bit confused.

"I have been measuring you all day and I like both your morals and your hard work. You are competent, well-connected, and intelligent but most of all you have this willingness to learn that makes you all the more remarkable." The older told the younger one sincerely.

"Thanks, I guess." Now he was both embarrassed and bewildered with where he was going with it.

"I want to make you in charge of my employer's operation in Braavos. If you accept your life will change and it will no longer be as simple as it is now." Domeric put forth his idea.

"I need time to think," He replied immediately.

"You have tonight to think all you want. I want an answer by tomorrow morning." Domeric commanded him.

"Alright," he sighed in resignation. Domeric with Markov's held hid his loot in his office at the docks and discreetly placed some protection wards around the hiding place. It won't do to lose three and a half hundred thousand gold dragons which are going to become his core capital.

He booked a room in Braavos for the night at a tavern to sleep and set up some perimeter and intent-detection wards around his room.

He woke up in the wee hours of the new day, the reason being that someone had tripped the alarm ward. He quickly got up and pulled a dagger from under the pillow which he had transfigured before going to bed for this very purpose. A shadow made its way from near the window. It was a man, a servant working in the tavern below.

"Do you know of the gift?" The servant from before asked.

"What gift?" Domeric asked him cautiously. He shifted in a position to best defend himself. "Who are you and what do you want from me?" He asked in quick succession.

"We are no warriors, nor soldiers but just humble servants of our God, the God of Many Faces. We do not give gift to anyone for our pleasure nor do we choose the recipient of the gift. This man does not have a name." He replied back a bit airily.

Domeric felt a bit nervous despite himself, he knew by reputation that these were the infamous faceless men. They were the elite assassins and never missed their mark.

"Then has someone hired you to kill me?" Domeric asked him.

The man shook his head in negative, "The God of Many Faces have showed me your face and the face of boy of ten with black hair and green eyes and another face that could have been the boy's younger brother but with a lightning bolt mark. He showed me many a faces after that but I only found you. I felt a connection between all of the faces."

"What is it that you want then?" The wizard questioned him calmly though he was slightly panicking inside.

"I want to understand the reason as to why your face was shown." He replied back softly.

"And what would become of me after I give you this information?" Domeric prodded him for more information.

"It will depend if you are His ally or enemy. I do not speak for him on serve him." He replied back in a cool and flat tone.

"Those are the faces of the same person; I have the ability to change my appearance at will and can take face of any man but cannot change in a woman. The boy with lightning bolt and I are the same person. I have memories of both lives with me." Domeric decided that now was time to be truthful. Admittedly, not a very intelligent thing to do on his part but he was getting tired of it at this point.

The man looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "You have already been given the gift. This man is forbidden from giving gift twice to anyone."

"No matter how much a man pays?" Domeric asked him a bit hopefully. ' _What?_ I want a free pass against these assassins dammit', he shouted in his head when a voice that sounded suspiciously like his father questioned his sanity.

"This man now considers you to be the avatar of the God of Many Faces. But this man warns you Lord Bolton, if the man's God declares that there can only be one man with many faces then you will swiftly receive the 'gift' from this man." He answered ominously and jumped out of the window and disappeared in the night.

'Why in the name of Merlin I had to open my big mouth. Now I don't know if I have gained a powerful ally or a dangerous enemy.' He was wondering whether he should cackle like mad at the possibility of having a whole league of assassins supporting him or start crying like a baby at the prospect of having the same order after his head.

As he thought back on his peculiar conversation with the faceless man he realized something, he was addressed as Lord Bolton which means that he was definitely magical in nature and had used some advanced scrying to find about him or at the very least someone in their organization could use magic.

It was also possible that there was some device in House of Black and White that these Faceless men used to find information on their target. He was not sure about the exact means but knew that magic was involved. The ease that the faceless man showed in moving around while remaining in the shadows can only be achieved by magic.

'I am pretty sure he was manipulating shadows around him to remain hidden. I will have to train in detecting magic and magical presences around me, I am not a natural sensor but I still have my ways and I think it's time that I brush up on some of those skills. I am sure I will be getting similar visits from other magical factions of Essos while travelling in the Free cities.' Sleep was a bit difficult to come but he finally fell asleep before dawn.

The next morning he woke up a bit later than usual but quickly got ready for the day and went in search for Markov. Domeric found him sitting on one of the tables at the tavern.

He silently sat beside him and ordered breakfast for the two of them. He looked tired and a bit worn out, Domeric was sure that he didn't get any sleep last night and was thinking on the offer. They ate in silence for some time before the Domeric broached the subject that they had talked about the other night.

"So, have you made your decision?" The Bolton asked him seriously.

"I will be blunt here, I would agree to your terms as long as you tell me what you want me to do. If it is something against the code that I live by then I will have to decline." He told him upfront.

"I will be blunt back; I want to establish a spy network and maybe even a sell-sword company here. I want you to find people and establish yourself as a businessman and money-lender. I cannot come here every time when something big goes down in Braavos; I need a man who is competent enough to head my projects. I like you Markov and I want you to be that man." Domeric told him his plan, now the ball was in his court.

He sat there silently for a moment before he suddenly grinned at him and said, "You want me to become rich and powerful then who the hell I am to say no to such a generous person."

Domeric smiled, then raised his mug of ale in a silent toast and said, "Well than my friend, let us hope that we become successful in all our future endeavors."

"Aye, for a better future" he clanked his mug with his and then Domeric asked him to take them back to his office where they had hid his loot.

They reached his office uninterrupted. He quickly locked the door and erected some silencing wards around the place.

"I know you already explained to me what you want to do but I will need more guidance and specification than what you have given me." He told with a serious look on his face.

"I know that is why I will be sending my spymaster Liam Frost to help you establish your spy network, you two will get along well. He is a bit younger than you but knows a lot about spying and the work that is done in back alleys." Domeric informed him and he nodded his head in acceptance.

"First of all I want you to buy some bars and brothels in the different parts of city under different names and if possible by names of people that are in our network. A man's tongue is loosest around some good wine and women. But be extremely careful and don't bite more than you can chew." He warned him carefully.

"Secondly, I want you to keep tabs on competent fighters especially sell-swords. If you manage to find sell-swords that are good and have exceptional skills, hire them and have them work as your guards. I will be sending silver chains for these guards; they will work like the pendants that our spy system uses. Once you have enough resources have them start their own sell-sword company."

"Don't mix your spy network with sell-swords. I don't want people to think that they both are controlled by the same person. This past day we were lucky that no one followed us around but once you start making waves you will have people's attention. They would know someone else is helping you behind the scenes because a junior custom officer cannot suddenly become a rich businessman." He pointed out and Markov nodded in understanding.

"Your story will be that your maternal grandfather who was a rich merchant from across the Jade Sea in Shadow lands recently passed away and left you some good money and his contacts. Liam will be one of these contacts; this will fool most of them, however, the people who truly know how to play these games will not believe you so easily." Domeric detailed it out to him. He let him stew on it for some time. He didn't want to overwhelm the man.

He continued, "I want at least a thousand sell-swords in my company in the next five years. I also want you to find more people like Cardio not only in Braavos but also in Lorath and Norvos. In few months I will be travelling to Pentos and while there I will employ an overseer like you."

"Both of the spy networks will be connected and Liam will decide your separate jurisdictions but in the end remember that you all work for me. You won't be working as a merchant anytime soon; you will have to gain some contacts that our future Pentoshi friend will provide you with. Following that you will have to earn enough money to buy some decent sized ships which cost something along the line of six thousand gold dragons."

He immediately asked, "How am I going to pay for everything?"

His answer was to walk towards one of the large trunks filled with Braavosi currency and open it. At his impressed expression he smiled smugly and said, "This chest here contains some twenty-five thousand gold dragons worth of iron coins of Braavos. I will leave fifty-thousand in Braavosi coins to you and another ten thousand in gold dragons. Liam will come with another fifty thousand Braavosi coins and if he determines that you will need more, then I will provide you with that money."

Then their talk included some more discussion but after an hour of it Domeric finally gave him some fifty spy pendants that he had brought with me. He decided that it was time for him to take his leave.

"I expect high things from you Markov, Valar Morghulis." Domeric called out when they were out in the docks. He had already shrunk the chests and confounded Markus into thinking some of his servants came and collected them.

"I would not disappoint you my friend, Valar Dohaeris." He replied back strongly and passionately.

Domeric found an abandoned tower, changed in his bird form, disillusioned himself and started flying back to Runestone. He was behind schedule by at least four hours but didn't care at the moment. He had gained something monumental that day, he was no longer just a pawn in the great game but now he was a player.

 **To be continued...**


	9. Chapter 9: Training and Revelations

**Chapter-9: Training and Revelations**

The months after his trip to Braavos were spent in routine and for once nothing unusual came his way. On his tenth name day he formally accepted the position of a squire for Lord Royce. The man was a slave driver and usually worked Domeric into ground. When people thinks about squiring for a lord they usually think about doing odd chores for them, which normally is true, but it is because most of the lords are nothing more than self-centered arrogant lazy bastards.

Contrary to popular belief, knights or lords also have a duty towards their squires; they have to teach their charge not only about laws of land and fighting skills but also about morals, integrity and honor which sadly enough most of them forget about. Most of the squires are considered as nothing more than trusted servants and in more recent times wine servers.

Being a knight is not as glorious as people make it out to be, you just have to be good at killing. Here in Westeros it's like every fifth person had killed someone at some point in his or her life, life is hard and unstable. Many of the people don't consider you a man grown until you have a good body count under your name. If you kill enough people or important enough people you are considered an accomplished knight.

That is why Domeric considered himself to be lucky that his teacher was not some shitty southern lord who liked to spend more time with cloth-makers than spending time in training yard. It was quite common for master-at-arms to train squires of Lord rather than the said lord doing his duties.

His training in archery, throwing knives and sword wielding continued, though at a bit slower pace than before. Instead of that his training in jousting began, it was slow and tedious process. Since he did not have enough upper body strength to keep a lance steady he practiced with a hollow lance and started learning forms and tactics.

After seeing Domeric riding Lord Royce was very excited and made it his personal goal to get him ready for tourney level jousting. Domeric then made the mistake of telling him about his desire to become knight by fifteen, the scary glint in his eyes reminded Domeric of all the teachers who tortu-trained him in arcane magic. He understood in that moment that he was in deep shit but it was already too late, he cursed his big mouth for days after that.

After some weeks he actually started to enjoy his time spent in training yards with Yohn though his teacher remained a sadist. All the sweat and blood that he shed were totally worth the body that he was slowly developing but it did not make it any less painful.

Even though he trained a lot he was not satisfied, the reason was simple enough to understand yet was born out of much complex thoughts. He trained hard, yes, but it was no different than what other good fighters did. He was talented but not on the level of Ser Barristan Selmy or even Ser Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer. They were older than him for sure and even past their prime but they were also a lot more experienced than him.

Regardless, he decided that to win against knights of their caliber he will have to be something unique. He thought on his options and settled on increasing his speed and flexibility. He did not compromise on his power either as jousting needs a lot of power and Domeric felt that it will be his best skill out of all.

He had noticed that the warriors of this world never underwent any kind of physical conditioning. Yes they trained a lot, yet simple exercises like running, sit-ups, pull-ups, squats, etc. were alien to them. It helped develop muscles that otherwise wouldn't have developed and Domeric perceived that it could be his advantage. He was already better than most in hand-to-hand, however, due to his short body he wouldn't be winning a fight anytime soon.

He also started using his left hand more often while training. He had realized a long time ago that if he wanted to use a sword and a wand at the same time in the future then he will have to train in dual-wielding. The days went with him doing nothing but practicing, his healing factor took care of any kind of strain his body showed.

One thing of note that did happen was when Domeric decided to come clean with Liam about magic. He was a trusted advisor of his and the man has already proven his loyalty to him more times than Domeric cared to count. If he can't trust him then he can't trust anyone, he thought and decided to confront him before sending him for Braavos.

Domeric was also getting tired of living this life of extreme secrecy; it was mentally exhausting to practice extreme caution in taking every action and after ten years it was finally getting on his nerves. He may have been a two and a half century old mage but even he had his limits.

 _Flashback…_

After dinner that night he asked the resident spy master to meet him in the good old godswood. He came alone and found Domeric meditating there and cleared his throat.

 _Domeric…_

As I opened my eyes he bowed and said "Lord Bolton, you called for me, my lord?"

"Yes and sit down Liam." I waited for him to sit then continued.

"I have a confession to make. I know you have been suspicious of my extremely high intelligence and how none of our spies have ever left our network or been caught. I have abilities Liam that allow me to do a variety of things." I told him honestly and waited for his reaction.

"Abilities, what kind of abilities are you talking about my lord?" He asked with a confused expression on his face.

"Magic" I said simply but only ended up confusing him more. I should have explained it a bit more.

"Yes Liam the same magic that people tell stories about. Magic is real and is nothing but a force of nature that some people posses and has the ability to control." I told him seriously.

"Prove it", he said a bit rudely and disbelievingly but I knew he was just curious and a bit shaken too as I was talking about using magic like people talk about drinking water.

I created a small ball of light in my hand and made it float above my hand as I did not want anyone to come to investigate after I used something flashy. I enjoyed the absolutely shocked look that came across his face and before he could start hyperventilating I hit him with a discreet calming charm. It took some time and several deep breaths before he was able to focus again though he was still unnerved.

"What are you, my lord?" He asked me in a soft whisper now truly lost. Man the lad sure didn't forget his curtsies even in his current condition.

"I am what you will call a wizard and a Mage in particular. I don't know what common people call us because there has been no mention of any person with abilities similar to mine in any of the books that I have read." I answered him and waited curiously if he had a name for me.

"I have believed for some time that you are more than you appear to be and you see the world through a different point of you. This was also the reason why I swore my loyalty to you my lord and nothing will change that though I am interested in the magical arts that you practice." He said in a heartfelt tone and with a reassuring smile on his face.

I felt like a weight has been lifted from my soldiers and give him a brilliant grin and launched in story of my follies in magic. We passed the night away talking and discussing about magic and its wonders.

 _Flashback ends_

The next day Domeric told him about his visit to Braavos and the role that he wanted him to play with Markov in Braavos. Liam agreed with his decision and they conversed about plans that he will execute upon reaching Braavos. Domeric provided him with money, sell-sword chains that he had been working on these past days and everything that he needed for his mission.

He sent two of his Bolton men with him and asked him to hire some sell-swords in Gulltown before his journey and temporarily provide them with the chain which he was instructed to take back once reaching the safety of their new head-quarters in the city. He would send a raven if any new development he should be appraised about occurred; though it will weaken his spy network in Westeros Domeric knew Liam was needed in Braavos at the moment.

The month after Liam left he started to feel a bit of mental strain, his body could be healed by magic but his mental exhaustion was another matter. Lord Royce also seemed to notice it hence why he gave him some days off from training. In Liam's absence he had started taking care of the spy network and with his already busy schedule, time was flowing like river and he was slowly losing himself in it. So, the short holiday that he got was spent on relaxation and a bit of magic.

Now it was not any heavy weight training it was just fun exploration. Since his transformation in thunderbird he noticed that elemental spells, especially those related to lightning, water and wind which together were elements of storm and thunder, were coming easier to him. So, he decided it's time to start experimenting in elemental manipulation.

At first he tried making small balls made out of fire and water, it was far easier to do so with water than with fire. If it was the case with him or it was just a general fact for magic in the world, Domeric had no way of finding out. Then he tried to making blades out of every element. Let's just say he wasn't able to lift sword for a week and leave it at that. None of the blades were very stable except for wind blades. Some things were terribly hard do and some were ridiculously easy. These extremities were frustrating to no end, so he decided to do what he could and leave the rest for a later date as he really wanted to just relax.

It was also during this time that he started entertaining the idea of telling Lord Royce about his magical talents. There were several pros and cons to the entire situation. The major benefit was that he will gain a valuable ally in Lord Royce. There was no doubt about it as he would want to follow a man with such amazing power if only to further the name of House Royce.

He will also be helpful in explaining his absence when he regularly started making his visits to Essos. The only disadvantage was that he would want more involvement of House Royce in his schemes. He would want more information too and possibly more runic armors after discovering that Domeric could make them very easily.

From his understanding of Lord Royce, Domeric deduced that his believe in Faith was shaky at best, in fact no one in House Royce except maybe Lady Royce were firm or hardcore believers of Faith. He knew that Lord Royce was very proud of being descended of the First Men, so he will be easier to convert to the Old Ways. It will take time but Domeric was sure that he could make Lord Royce could be convinced of magic and even Old Gods.

Domeric's manipulation were subtle at first like telling him that he believed that the runes on his new armor were working better in North particularly in the Godswood than here in Vale. Or before the arrival of The Faith, magic was very strong and the people in realm had more honor or how other southern houses thinks that First Men were nothing but savages.

It was a casual comment here and a casual comment there but Domeric knew that it was working. Coincidentally, Ser Andar, Lord Royce's heir also agreed with Domeric. Apparently he was getting tired of Lords from South particularly from Westerlands and Reach not giving proper respect to House Royce.

He still remembered what Andar had said at that time, "Those Tyrells and Lannisters lords strut around across the land like they had accomplished something great. They are nothing but pussies trying to claim something that was never theirs in the first place. They forget that my father was one of the first to declare for King Robert and my people fought fiercely for him. Tyrells were traitor yet the king let them go, Lannisters are more snake than lions. They sacked a city filled with innocent defenseless men, big deal anyone could have done it." He breathed deeply to calm himself.

He had then continued passionately, "We fought and bled for our king and we were the ones who put him on the throne yet they think themselves to be the kingmaker. Their eyes had been dazzled by their gold and green fields so much that they often overlook the fact that we live in monarchy and your money means shit when the men bearing weapons and armors come charging in your home."

They often talked with Andar often informing him about the complex situation that was building in the Seven Kingdoms. He was surprisingly well informed, when inquired he admitted that he had some people working for him as informants.

Domeric finally confronted Lord Royce after practicing after deciding that enough time had passed.

"My lord, I would like to talk to you alone tonight after the meal." Domeric said to him in his most serious voice. Seeing his squire's intense eyes Yohn nodded his head.

"Very well Domeric, we shall conduct our meeting in Lord's Solar." He told in return.

"My lord, I think it will be prudent for you to meet me in the godswood only. The information that I have is very important and it will be best done away from any prying ears." Domeric implored him. He did not look convinced so he decided to hound him some more.

"I also wanted to show you something my lord that can only be done in godswood as no one ever goes there." Domeric spoke.

"Alright boy, we will have this meeting of yours there. Since, you have gone to such length to keep this thing secret I will arrive alone." He said now slightly annoyed with him.

"Thank you, Lord Royce. You won't be disappointed." Domeric smiled at him happily and bounced to the great hall to have his fill of the day. He was taking good care of himself as he didn't want to be a scrawny little malnourished boy; one life was enough and Domeric was making sure that he did not get a weak body did this time around.

The night meal was filled with anxiousness and restlessness for Domeric to say the least.

He arrived and stood silently in front of heart tree while waiting for Lord Yohn. He arrived soon after him and as soon as they exchanged their greetings Domeric tore in the subject that he wanted to present for so long.

"Let's cut to the chase and get straight to the heart of the matter. I know you are suspicious of my intelligence and my mind for politics." Domeric said to him and watched as he arched his brows in silent surprise and nodded his head in confirmation.

"I have a gift my lord, a gift given to me by the Old Gods." Domeric lied through the teeth while smiling slightly at his confused and skeptical look.

"What do you mean by that Domeric?" He asked him, both confused and cautious.

"I have magic my lord." Domeric announced while creating a fireball in his hand. Yohn sat frozen, his mouth agape in surprise and eyes wide with both awe and fear. After some time he was able to compose himself, however, he was now tense and flighty like a caged animal.

"Like those Valyrians of the old." He asked Domeric with a bit of fear and anger in his voice though he tried to regain tight control of his facial expressions.

"Nay my lord, their magic was most foul and limited. It was closely tied to fire and blood sacrifices, I call it one of the dark arts. It is called dark arts because this magic is very powerful and is addictive in nature if performed by weak willed people or incorrectly. Unlike me, Valyrians of old did not have a lot of magic of their own; they could only use magic from these rituals to power up their spells and enchantments but I was born with it and that is why I call it a gift from gods." Domeric explained to him in detail.

He continued, "They were what I believed to be squibs, non-magical people with an aptitude to see and recognize magic. They can feel it but are unable to use it but the rituals they used were powerful and the limited amount of magic they did posses was sufficient to suit their purposes." He looked at him and easily discerned that he was both excited and nervous though he tried to keep his face hard but his thoughts gave him away to Domeric way too easily.

"I would like to know how your magic works and now that I know of it I have no doubt that the runes used on my new armor and sword were of your very own creation." He said while smiling a bit smugly. Honestly speaking, Domeric was a bit surprised that he figured that out so soon. It meant that he always suspected the validity of his story, seems like he is not so easily fooled after all.

"Intelligent man," He commented lightly and let a small smirk play across his features.

He too smiled a bit proudly but then Domeric once again said, "You can come out now Ser Andar as you can see, I have no malicious intentions toward your father."

Domeric heard rustling in woods and then Ser Andar came towards where they were seated and upon his father's permission took a seat across from Domeric, sitting right of Lord Royce.

Lord Royce then said with a commanding voice, "I want answers."

That is exactly what Domeric did for the whole night. He did not tell him about all of his abilities, he also left out most of his shady powers but Domeric told him enough so that he could trust him and his abilities with magic. By the time dawn rolled out they all were exhausted but the question that still remained was what position will House Royce take with Domeric.

"You say that magic in North is far stronger than in South due to presence of weirwood trees and the Old Gods." Ser Andar asks in a contemplative voice.

"Aye, I do not know which of it is but since both of them are inter-related we can assume as much." He answered him honestly.

"Do you think that planting a weirwood in Runestone will increase the strength of those wards that you say are protecting the castle from magical attacks?" Ser Andar continued his inquires.

"Definitely, from my understanding of the wards, they are bound to a place by using ward stones which feed on the ambient magic that magical people or other creatures release. Wierwood trees are magical in nature and release a lot of magic that would power up the wards without any problem but it will take time. The ward stones are old and would take their time, if I had access to them I could have easily charged them myself but I fear they are hidden in the foundations of some of the buildings and we would never get them without damaging the buildings in process." Domeric answered him with a lengthy explanation.

Both Lord Royce and Ser Andar were looking conflicted at this point. Domeric immediately understood what they were both worried about but he already had a plan for it in his mind.

"Okay, so let me guess, you both are worried about faith's reaction if you decided to plant weirwood trees in Runestone." He said and they both looked surprised but nodded their head in agreement.

"Don't you worry about that my lords; I already have a plan for it." He told them and smirked smugly at the idea that formed in his brilliant mind.

They asked for it but he told them to wait for some months so that he could work on the finer details of his deal and personally make the necessary arrangements.

"Now that I have told you about my gifts, I want to know where you stand." Domeric asked them softly but his face betrayed no emotions. Lord Royce locked his eyes with Domeric.

"I don't know what your plans for future are but I will follow you and the Old Gods as long as you will have me. If you were making a play for Iron Throne I would have already pledged myself to you but I suspect you will do things differently, House Royce will stand beside you." He said to him strongly and Domeric could easily see determination in both of their faces. They exchanged some vows to seal the alliance in godswood and then headed towards their chambers.

In Liam's absence Billy became his most trusted spy. The wizard asked him to arrange a meeting between more powerful of the Vale's mountain clans and himself and Lord Royce. Billy promised me that he would try his hardest but it will take him at least three months before he will be able to manage it.

That was not the only plan that Domeric set in motion. He sent a messenger to his father in which he asked him to send some weirwood saplings with utmost discretion. He didn't go in details in the message but he knew that his father was intelligent enough to read between the lines. It will take at least two moons for the messenger to reach Dreadfort, his father to gather the saplings and then for him to send them back to him through White Harbor.

He also set down to work on making some communication mirrors. They required a lot of magic and skill that Domeric doubted that anybody besides him possessed there. The enchantments would wear off within a couple of years so he decided to make them in limited numbers.

He put enchantments on mirrors designed like pocket watches of 19th century, instead of showing time they showed a mirror. There were some others as bracelets or medallions too. It was easier to carry them in such a way, in case of a call they will heat up and vibrate slightly and to further secure them he added notice-me-not and anti-theft wards on the mirrors. To make them work overseas he had to put a lot of magic in each mirror which left him magically exhausted for a whole week.

He also started working on more chains for the sell-swords that will be joining in his company. It was nearly impossible to make so many of them personally so he employed some jewelers from Gulltown and asked them to make some two thousand silver chains and some hundred golden ones under a false identity. When asked, he lied by telling them that he was a merchant who wanted to reward his servants for their loyalty and hard work.

This meant that even if someone found the chain, they wouldn't be able to trace it back to him. The chains had the same feature as the necklaces except that the sell-swords were free to leave when they desired. It won't do if people started noticing that no one was leaving the company, he was sure that it would raise a lot of red flags.


	10. Chapter 10: Pentos

**Disclaimer: I will once again say that I do not own Harry Potter, Game of Thrones or A song of Ice and Fire; a pity really :(**

 **Author Notes:**

 **1\. Now people have been questioning me that why the hell did Domeric revealed his magic to Lord Royce. It's simple he considered Lord Royce something akin his extended family. Even a person holding secrets of thousands need someone to talk to. Magic is an important part of his life, how can you properly connect with someone when you keep something this big a secret for this long. Also it was his way of controlling what the Royce family learned of magic, it is often times better to hear from source rather than the gossip. By telling them he was influencing them to think about magic like he did, nothing wrong with that.**

 **2\. Secondly I will like to thank all the people who gave me some wonderful advice and reviews.**

 **3\. Now once again on the topic of reviews, I was certainly unhappy about many reviews that I received. Unhappy in the sense that the comments were nothing more than personal bashing rather than ideas and suggestions for improvement.**

 **I hate it when readers trash talk because they didn't like certain aspect of the story. If you didn't like a particular thing than just ignore it, if great novelists like J.K. Rowling and G.R.R. Martin were unable to satisfy every reader then how the fuck do you expect me to do it. I am nothing compared to them.**

 **Its not just about me but I will say on behalf on all of my fellow writers that we can't appeal to every single one of our readers. if you can't provide some constructive advice or information then at least don't demoralize the writers. Negative remarks were never the issue, the thing is that you say you don't like a particular concept and then start bashing the writer on it. If you are so overzealous over it then stop reading the damn story, there are millions of fics on this site alone. Its more harassing than anything at that point.**

 **4\. Now that I had vented enough ;) I will say that the coming chapter is large and the point of view is once again changing. I will once again apologize but it was written a long time ago and making corrections on whole 8k words was not practical for me. I still hope that you enjoy it.**

* * *

 **Chapter-10: Pentos**

It has already been four months since I made my trip to Braavos. I decided that the time has come for me to establish my base at Pentos and make some good friends there.

I told Lord Royce that I have some magical matters to attend to and wanted an alibi. In response to that Lord Royce took Ser Andar, some twenty guards and me to hunting for a week. Wymar did try to join us but Lord Royce told him off by saying that he was behind in his studies with Maester Wolkon which was certainly true. Once in the forest I separated from Lord Royce and confounded the guards that they forgot that I was with them.

I quickly made my way towards south-east. Pentos was one of the colonies of Old Valyria who declared their freedom after the Doom struck Valyrian Freehold. Pentos outlawed slavery in accordance to a pact that they signed with Braavos to stop the last war that took between the two free-cities. Though the slavery is officially gone there are a number of magister like Illyrio Mopatis and merchants in Pentos who have heavily invested their money in slave trade taking place in Volantis and in the Slaver's Bay.

Aside from Braavos, Pentos is probably the second most important trade port in Essos because of its close proximity with King's landing, Gulltown, Dragonstone and lastly White Harbor.

My contact in the city was Quintus Doyle; he was fourth son of a rich Volantene merchant-prince. His father had sent him to Pentos to establish new trade relations with Pentoshi magister, it was a polite way of saying I don't need you as you are just a spare.

He knew that there was not much to do in Volantis, so he bought a ship and sailed to Pentos while carrying a large amount of fine wine that he stole from his father. He unloaded the shipment and divided it between smaller packages and sold it all over the Pentos and gifted some of it to various Pentoshi magister which kept him safe from any kind of prosecution for some time.

He was originally one of the Billy's old acquaintances while he was in Volantis and Billy spoke quite highly of him. According to Billy, the man was smart and knew his way around the world, Billy called him a Jack of all trades during one of our chats.

That was why I decided to bring a chest filled with Pentoshi and even some Westerosi coins with me. If he was as good as Billy said then I don't see any reason as to why he can't be a good ally.

After three hours of continues flight I finally reached Pentos. After seeing Braavos, Pentos was a massive let down for me. The city had high walls all around it and some brick towers but even after that it was vulnerable. The bird's eye view that I was currently getting of the city told me as much. In order to bring least attention to myself I disillusioned myself and made my way towards a busy market and flew down to a nearby empty alleyway. I changed my appearance to that of my fake identity that I created as Neville Longbottom.

I mingled easily with the busy market crowd after suitably transfiguring my clothes. I made my way towards Quintus' manor using the map that Billy has provided me with. I finally reached the place and saw that the manor was made of white marble with tilted roofs made out of bricks. There were few guards posted around the outer walls which from what I can see were around ten or so. I moved towards the main entrance.

"Halt, state your reason for passing." One of the guards at the gate called out to me.

"I am here to see young Master Doyle. Please give him this pendant and he will understand who has come for him." I told the guard calmly and firmly. He nodded and made his way in the manor. I waited for some time before a man in his early thirties who I guessed was my contact made his way towards me with the guard who went inside.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." I whispered to him so that the guards stationed at the entrance could not make out the phrase.

"Mischief Managed." He replied back smiling slightly. I grinned back and he indicated me to follow him.

I observed him out of the corner of my eyes. He had curly brown hair and violet eyes. He was quite tall around 5'11" in height. He was a bit bulky in stature, built for more strength than speed and he favored his left leg more than his right, past injury that was not healed properly most likely.

"So tell me Lord Long…" he began.

"Please Master Quintus call me Neville." I requested of him.

"Very well, but then please call me Quintus in return." He told me smilingly. I nodded my head in acceptance and smiled back.

"As I was saying, what can I do for you?" He asked me with a curious look on his face.

"I suspect that Billy has already informed you about me so I won't beat around the bush and try to be direct with you. I want to understand Pentos, I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything that you can about this city."

"I won't force you to tell me your secrets but I want to know anything and everything that runs in this city. Of course you will be compensated handsomely in return." I told him seriously as we made our way to some chairs and a table placed in the garden. He remained quiet for some time until he took his seat on the chair.

"There are obviously a lot of things to know about Pentos but I will tell you the most important ones." He replied and then relaxed in his chair.

He continued, "You are no doubt already aware of the fact that Pentos is heavily involved in trade with both the Seven Kingdoms and other Free Cities. But it is little known fact that Pentos also trade with Iron Islands."

"What do they exchange between themselves?" I asked him, truly shocked in the silence for a moment. Ironborns conducting trade, it was unheard of, up until now that is.

"Ironborn sell slaves and crops that they acquire from their raids to some of the most powerful magisters of Pentos who can easily keep these dealings secret. They also sometimes sell other odds and ends that they have pillaged during their raids. The trade is never conducted in Pentos, no one but few Ironborns and the magisters involved in the trade know where it happens." He explained the situation to me in details and his voice was nothing above a whisper.

"What do the Ironborn get out of this trade?" I asked him in a quiet voice immediately understanding his desire to keep this conversation as silent as possible. He threw me a grateful look, then looked around and licked his lips nervously.

"Gold, lots and lots of gold," he tried to explain me but I was not getting the point.

"What do they need this gold for; they don't usually care about these materialistic things." I asked him worriedly.

"They use this gold to purchase timber in Westeros and Summer Islands for their ship or in some cases whole ships from Volantis. Iron Islands have a lot of forested area but centuries of ship-building have reduced the available amount of timber in the area. Now, Volantis and Pentos are trading mightily with the Iron Islanders, especially the Greyjoys." He told me grimly.

"Oh my God," that was the only thing that I could say, I had a lot of plans regarding Iron Islands and now most of them will have to be altered. House Greyjoy became a threat of a whole new level.

"No one in the market knows about this information and I only accidently came across it through a letter. I must impress upon you to not spread it around, you can use it to your advantage but don't tell anyone. I am already in danger of getting killed because of this, it is only because of some powerful Braavosi support that I have survived for this long." He implored me in his most serious voice.

And I did understand the implications that this news will have if it came to light. Braavos will start a war with Pentos and Iron Islands over this and will have support of the Iron Throne. But it will also make for some excellent blackmail material if I am able to find the place where this trade takes place. As for the Ironborn, they will be dealt with, sooner or later, one way or another but they will be dealt with.

We took a small break from our discussion and Quintus made some arrangements for our lunch. Once seated, we started both our meal and discussion.

"Okay. Tell me more about the political environment in Pentos." I told him, now truly curious what other secrets are hidden here in Pentos.

"Now while rest of the world thinks that Pentos is operated by the magisters, it is not the complete truth. Braavos has limited our military power and there are many agents of Sealord here in Pentos to keep us in check. People think Pentos to be one of the free-cities but on the contrary I believe Pentos to be a semi-independent colony of Braavos." He told me while smirking wolfishly. I thought on it for a moment and found myself agreeing with him.

"I will have to agree with you on this, Pentos only have some twenty warships, no standing army of its own and on top of that they cannot even hire any sell swords. From the way in which Pentos is dependent on Braavos, yes, one can call it a semi-colonial city of Braavos or…a pre-colonial city state." I told him and smiled smugly at the brilliant thought that came to my mind regarding Braavos' strategy towards Pentos. Even Quintus looked shocked at my proclamation which from what I guessed was not very often.

It would have been difficult for others to realize the situation but I had read in history books a lot about colonial period and it was a rather clever move on Braavos' part. It restricted Pentos' military movements and if they ever try to rise again, this time Braavos will establish its complete rule over Pentos with minimum bloodshed and the world will think that it was the classic 'final nail in the coffin' move on Pentos' part that forced Braavos to take action.

This way Braavos won't be seen as instigator and instead will have the public support behind them. Commoners in Pentos will view Braavos as their savior which will minimize the chance of any rebellion or high treason against the Sealord. For a rebellion to be successful it must have a support base, a public support base to be precise.

"I never thought of that, it has been so long since the destruction of Valyrian Freehold and 'Bleeding Years' that the idea of colonies has become foreign in Essos." He told me with a distant look in his eyes, probably remembering the readings that he had done regarding the Freehold.

"Many magisters do a lot of trade with Myr, Tyrosh and Lys but the most profitable trade is usually done with Volantis. The aristocratic society of Volantis holds some sway with the magisters situated here in Pentos but not much. There is not much else to tell you other than what I have already told." He said to me with a furrowed brow while trying to remember anything of importance.

"Oh and magisters are not the only one who have power in the city. Information traffickers like Lord Varys are also fairly powerful; many magisters themselves maintain their own spy networks but the rest of them hire these spymasters to do the jobs for them." He informed me. We talked some more but then Quintus left me to my own devices as he had some work to do.

He assigned a servant girl named Mesta to look after my needs before making a hurried exit from his manor. Mesta was a beautiful woman in her early twenties with black hair, blue eyes and ivory skin. She had a very curvaceous figure with quite a generous bust on her lean body.

The rest of the day I walked around the streets of Pentos observing and playing the part of a tourist visiting Pentos for the first time which actually was the case. Mesta was a good escort and companion, she explained a lot to me about the streets of Pentos, I marked a lot of locations on my map.

Most of these locations were the fortified manses of magisters or some other rich Pentoshi merchants. If I was going to raid some of them, I would best be proactive about it. I read some of the Mesta's memories of Quintus and from them I gathered that he was generous, skilled with the blade, smart and had determination in spades but above all else he had a thirst to prove himself to his family. He wanted to prove those people wrong who always looked down upon him because o him being the fourth son. I decided to observe him some more as I had at least a week before I was needed at Runestone.

As evening came around Quintus arrived, soaked in sweat and his tunic had patches of blood here and there on it. He was looking disheveled and exhausted. I took a seat across from him and when he finally looked up towards me I arched one of my eyebrows and looked pointedly towards the blood stains on his clothes.

"I got a lead on location of the place where Pentoshi magisters are trading with those Ironborns. Before the informant could tell me the location magister Loran Uttios' men killed him, I and my friends had to fight our way out. Now we need that information before midnight or we would 'mysteriously' disappear. If I get that information I will be able to blackmail them and maybe come out of this unscathed." He replied back, then released a heavy sigh and dropped his head on the table.

"Get some rest I am going to rob a magister blind." I told while smiling like a loon.

He must have thought that I had some kind of plane as he also smirked back at me and got up to make his way to his rooms. I asked Mesta to mark the place where Loran lived, I decided that it was time to pay visit to our dear magister.

I made my way to Loran's place to find as many blind spots in his defense as possible. When I got close to the place I noticed that the manse was surrounded by high walls that were at least fifteen feet high and were than secured with barbed fences on top of them. There were two entrances but I was sure that Loran had at least one secret passage out of manse for him and his family. I disillusioned myself, silenced my footsteps and breathing, removed my scent and walked straight through the front doors as though I owned the place.

Once inside I had to travel through the front garden, guard quarters, inner walls and then servant quarters before I finally reached the main building where Loran lived with his family. I slipped easily through the guards while remaining unnoticed. I read the mind of one of the servants and quickly strode towards his chamber. As I neared his chamber I heard the sounds of grunting and moaning and I didn't need to be a genius to figure out what was happening in the room.

I knocked out the two guards that were posted outside the chamber and paid them no mind as they crumbled in heap outside the room. I went in the room and found a fat man in his late forties fucking a whore. I put a sleeping spell on the whore and quickly stunned, bound and gagged the man who must have been Loran.

I pulled the hood of my cloak over my face so that it remains in shadows and became visible again. I levitated him towards the chair in the corner and dropped him unceremoniously on it. I silenced the room then I enervated him and as he came back in the world of living I welcomed him with a strong right hook which I am sure will give him a nasty bruise.

"Wh…who are you? Wha..at are you doing here? What do you want from me? Where are my guards? Guards" He cried out in quick succession, he looked both terrified and angry so I decided to give him a black eye after which he went quite.

"Now listen here you fat maggot, I will be the one who will be asking questions and you will answer them truthfully or you won't be going out of this room alive and believe me when I say that I will know if you try to lie to me. Understood?" I glared at him and spoke in my meanest and coldest voice.

He was clearly terrified, so just frantically nodded his head. With wide eyes and heavy sweat covering his body he made for a comical sight.

"Now tell me, where is your treasury located in the manse?" I asked him and smiled internally as I saw him getting angrier and even more afraid but in the end his survival instinct prevailed and he complied with my order.

We continued to 'chat' for the next ten minutes or so all the while I was using passive legilimency on him to ascertain the truth.

I finally said, "You have been most helpful magister Loran, unfortunately for you, I don't like your name."

He saw my malicious smile and knew his end was near, so he shouted out with all his strength for help which didn't do much good for him. I quickly slit his throat and realized that the silencing charm had already worn off. I cursed at myself for not being more cautious and ran out of the room towards the treasury and promptly applied my stealth charms.

I made my way towards the treasury; it was a small store room with a heavily protected door that was locked. I opened it using the keys that I had acquired from Loran and shut it off after I entered. I transfigured a candle from one of the pebbles that I have made a habit of carrying around in my pocket and lit it up.

I found myself staring at a room filled with various nick-knacks. There were shelves filled with documents, weapons, jewelry and some other antics. There were also numerous scrolls and books in one of the trunks that I checked out. Most of them were on history, philosophy and war tactics but there were some that were on magic and other mystical arts, the books were rare and old to say the least.

On further rummaging through the trunks and chests, I found that there were Pentoshi coins that amounted to some one-hundred thousand gold dragons. I quickly shrunk down the chests of coins, I was pretty sure Loran had hidden catches around the Pentos or even Essos so I took all the money, some weapons and jewels that couldn't be traced back to me and made copies of documents, books and scrolls. The copies were then stored in another trunk and quickly shrunken down to be sorted out later on.

As I was making my way through the corridors I felt a magical presence behind me. I fluidly turned around to face the being and came face to face with a man who was wearing a long black hooded robe, typical dark wizard garb. It appears that in my haste I forgot to apply my stealth charms back on me.

He started firing spells that I did not know the purpose of but I didn't have to worry about that for long as I heard things behind me starting to explode. I nimbly dodged the spells and launched a fireball back towards him that he was able to dodge.

"Is this all you have got? My granny gives me a better fight than you." I taunted him and he glowered back at me. His attacks became faster and more powerful; in return I became even more prompt in dodging, rolling and jumping to avoid the onslaught of spells.

We played this game for some more time before I had enough and launched multiple wind blades towards him that he was unable to dodge and was cut at many different places. He got distracted for a moment and that was all the time that I needed to finish him off, I took one of the throwing knives I had with me and threw it towards the magician while coating the blade with very potent magic that will work as poison for the magician, the knife found its mark and hit the man directly in the heart.

As I heard the sounds of hurrying footsteps, I searched for the source and saw four guards making their way towards me. I readied myself for the battle as they had already spotted me and hiding was not an option anymore, I was already detecting two other magical beings coming towards me and furthermore I wanted to search the body of dead magician to discover his origin.

I transfigured a pebble in a spear and threw it towards one of the incoming guardsmen like a javelin. It sailed through the air and embedded itself firmly in the guard's torso. The rest were momentarily stunned and in that time I killed another with a knife to head. The remaining duo of guardsmen swiftly came towards me, I dodged and weaved my way around their blades and killed one by punching him in the throat. The second one was then killed when I used the dead guard as a shield and used his sword to plant in the last guard's gut.

I checked my magical core and noted that my reserves were already half way down. I knew that if I wanted my rest of the stay in Pentos to be out of the bed I would have to end the upcoming magicians quickly.

I didn't get to wait much before they came running in the corridor shooting spells at me. I was continuously ducking and jumping while firing some curses of my own. One of my spells hit its mark and a magician went down to the cutting curse. This got me distracted and I was hit with what I guessed was a bone breaker in the shoulder, it was painful but I wanted to keep the second one alive for interrogation.

This continued for some time and I was once again nicked by a hex, this time a cutting curse which game a huge gash on my torso. I cursed myself for getting sloppy and overconfident during a fight and decided to end it. I quickly used a spell which covered the ground around the last magician in oil and then used a fire spell to light the oil up which it promptly did.

The warlock tried to use a water conjuring spell to put out the fire but since the oil was added in the mix, it was ineffective and he was quickly overwhelmed and burnt alive. I quickly put him out of his misery and extinguished the fire along with vanishing all of my blood.

I then searched the bodies of the magicians but found nothing of interest except a letter which I decided to read at a later time. I heard some shouts and running footsteps coming my way, so decided to get the hell out of the place.

 _Third Person POV…_

While walking towards Quintus' place Domeric was berating himself for becoming careless and arrogant since his arrival in this world. He had already started to heal himself but it was a long process which will possibly take several hours. He was thinking 'Man I messed it up big time, now everyone will be out for Quintus' blood. At least I got what I went looking for, so cheers.'

He was feeling disappointed in himself. He was unable to detect the presence of magicians the moment he entered the place. He knew that he was far from reaching his full potential just yet but it didn't dampen the shame that he was feeling in himself. He had let his skills go down the drain and now he was paying for it.

Domeric reached the manor and found it surrounded by both allied and enemy guards. He quickly went towards the hall where a lot of shouting was heard and found out that the place was filled with many merchants and magisters.

Thinking that Quintus could manage for some few more minutes, Domeric walked towards his room still under the stealth charms. Once inside, he cleaned himself thoroughly and removed sweat and blood from his body before donning a fresh set of clothes. He lowered the hood of his cloak on his face, collected the documents that Quintus will require and set off towards the meeting hall at a brisk pace. The guards let him enter without a fuss as they knew him.

…annot let this go unanswered. These people here tried to steal a very important piece of information that is vital for our cities well-being and I would request to all of you to put master Quintus and his associates on a formal trial for endangering Pentos' security." A loud obnoxious voice declared to a lot of cheering.

The source was none other than a short, fat, bald-headed magister who was a rich cheese merchant and was thusly known as 'Big cheddar', a name which in actuality was used for mocking his small height and big mouth along with his reputation as the best cheddar (a variety of cheese) merchant of Pentos.

Domeric silently strode towards Quintus who was looking tense and fidgety. As soon as he saw Domeric, his face took an expectant look and he asked.

"Did you get it?" His face was full of nervous anticipation.

Domeric smiled slightly behind the hood. "Here are the documents that you wanted and then some more. Use them well." Domeric added at last and turned around to go out of the hall without waiting for Quintus' reply.

He thought it would be better to let Quintus deal with his problems so he made himself scarce for a bit as he was already gaining attention of people in the hall.

Upon reaching his suite, he changed into his night cloths consisting of a loose white tunic and some loose grey pants. As lay there resting on the bed, he was evaluating his adventure in the magister's manse. He realized that there were many a times when he could have done things a bit differently, he has been rash and was now paying the price for it.

His musings were cut short when Mesta walked in the room carrying a tray. She was wearing a revealing night gown of light blue and truthfully looked incredibly sexy in it. She bowed before announcing.

"My lord, Master Doyle told me that he won't be able to have dinner with you and he hopes that you understand. He asked me to bring dinner for you and to remain with you should you need anything." She said to Domeric while smiling beautifully towards him.

"Very well, have you partaken the meal?" Domeric smiled back and inquired.

"No my lord, I have not." She told him still smiling.

"Good, then you can join me. There is plenty for both of us and I won't take no for an answer." He assured her and then mock-glared towards her to quench any kind of protest.

She smiled slightly and looked conflicted for a moment but finally took a seat and they started their dinner. The flow of conversation was steady during the meal and only light-hearted topics were broached. As the dinner came to an end Domeric easily read Mesta's intentions and decided to play along with it.

"What do we have for dessert Mesta?" Domeric asked her while trying hard not to smirk.

She got out of her chair, walked up to him and then sat down in his lap.

"You can have me, my lord." She purred in his ear and smiled seductively up at him.

He grinned and then gave her a long hot kiss that had Mesta moaning in desire. The rest of the night was filled with sounds of groaning and moaning in Domeric's room. As he lay exhausted and satisfied in his bed after the long night of continues sex, his thoughts went to how long it had been since he had good lay. It was hard to tell but after his wife's death Harry had been rather adventurous man in these matters, his morphing skill were put to good use in that time. After some more minutes of reminiscing Domeric finally fell asleep.

When morning came Domeric quickly got up and went in search of Quintus. He was quite late and it was near noon but he was sure that Quintus won't have woken up either due to the last night's _meeting_. If anything he would be waking up later than him. As he made his way towards the great hall, Mesta crossed his path. She walked towards him and Domeric was felling proud when he saw her walking with a slight limp, she quickly bowed as soon as she reached him.

"My lord, Master Quintus want to take lunch with you and have thusly requested your presence." She said in warm voice and her cheeks were tinted with slight pink flush.

"I myself was making my way towards dining hall so let's be on our way." He responded happily. The walk was passed in comfortable silence before they finally reached their destination.

The great hall was empty bar a few servants, a couple of guards and finally Quintus. Domeric made his way to sit beside Quintus at the head table.

"Good morning, my lord," came the sleepy reply from Quintus.

"Good morning. Though from your condition, I would say the previous night was not good for you." Domeric replied back cheerfully. And indeed Quintus' did not look fully awake. He was exhausted and tense that much Domeric could easily discern from his face alone.

"No, the night went relatively well in no small part thanks to you but I could have done without being centre of everybody's ire, my lord." He replied back sullenly.

"Ah so you are worried about that." Domeric responded in sudden realization.

"You seem awfully cheerful and energized today." He grumbled towards Domeric.

"Well I had a lot of fun last night." I smiled my mischievous smile towards him and if the twitching of his lips was any indication then he understood immediately. But then I remembered my purpose for seeking him out.

"Now tell me what happened after I left last night." I questioned or rather ordered in a firm voice.

And he did, after Domeric had left Quintus had threatened the magisters. He told them that if anything were to happen to him, his men would give all the information of the slave route to the King of Seven Kingdoms and the Sealord of Braavos who together will ensure that the name Pentos won't be remembered by the next century.

After the challenge was made the magisters were pissed as hell towards Quintus but could do nothing about it. They had tried to buy his loyalty and men too but Quintus and his men didn't budge. Domeric was impressed for sure as it was quite remarkable to see that Quintus could inspire such loyalty from his men, something to note for future.

He finally mentioned that now that he has more power in Pentos, he can increase his network of spies and informants around Pentos but it would still require a lot of money. Domeric knew that he have at least another couple of days before pitching his proposal to the young Doyle. After the lunch they went to the gardens to continue discussion of some more important matters.

"Now, I would like to know Domeric, what are you going to do next." Quintus asked after both men were seated on the comfortable chairs.

"Honestly, I myself don't know what I should do for my remaining time here. I can certainly do some fun and entertaining things nut this is a business visit and I want to something profitable." He smiled sheepishly. Quintus smirked in amusement after hearing his reply.

"I may have a suggestion or two." He told him slowly, at Domeric's expectant look he continued, "You can raid some more manses for documents and secrets but I don't think that it will be as easy as it was before. After yesterday's raid they will be more cautious and alert. The other option is that you could open up that letter that you took from the dead warlock's body which you told me about before." He reminded Domeric who felt a sudden urge to bash his head against a wall for forgetting that important piece of information.

"Alright, I will open it. It will most likely be encrypted or in their local language and it will take some time to work so I better get started early on this." Domeric stood up and strode towards his room where he could read the letter that he has been carrying around in his bottomless pouch.

It was as he had expected it to be. It was coded and from the looks of it, was a good one. Domeric spent the rest of his afternoon decoding it and acknowledged that it will take no less than a couple of weeks to fully decipher it. Luckily it was good but not great, it was a mixture of coded languages that were regularly used in Essos and in time they will form a pattern but still it will require some dedicated hours.

By the time evening rolled out Domeric was dying from boredom so he decided to follow Quintus' suggestion. He chose the manse of a magister named Bole Trove who had some impressive relations with Dothraki. He often bought slaves from the horse-lords at an outpost outside Pentos, then he will transfer them to a port of little re-known and ship them to Slaver's Bay.

This time Domeric was cautious and more mentally prepared for a magical battle than the last time but he did not want it to happen that was why he chose Bole's manse. His senses had told him that there was no kind of magical presence in the manse or in the surrounding area but it never hurt to be a bit cautious.

He applied his stealth charm and carefully crept through the gates only to become lost as he did not know the place at all. Domeric theorized that if he would follow the increasing concentration of guards and servants in the manse, he would either reach the magister or the treasury so that was exactly what he did. It took some time and he did come across a few dead ends but he was finally able to reach the treasury. While walking he was also listening to servants and guards which led him to discover that the magister was not in the city at the moment.

The treasury was being guarded by a group of six emotionless warriors who could only be unsullied. Unlike Loran's treasury this was more of a room than a large safe and had no kind of protection besides the guard stationed outside. Domeric confounded them easily in letting him enter the place. The treasury was filled with the things that he was slowly growing accustomed of seeing like gold coins, books, weapons, gems, documents, etc.

There was nothing extraordinary in the place. Domeric counted the gold using a spell that first measured the total weight of the gold and then divided that weight by the weight of an individual coin, quite a handy spell truthfully. He whistled appreciatively when the count came finally reached to four hundred thousand dragons. Though he would like nothing more to steal the whole lot of it he knew that he already had the attention of a number of people.

The magisters already suspected his hand in the stealing of hundred thousand Pentoshi coins and another one will no doubt all but confirm their assumptions. However, taking a sum of ten thousand or so won't bring a lot of attention. He was by no means a beggar but he knew that if he wanted to do even half the things that he had planned to he would need a lot of money, every single gold dragon of it.

So, he scooped up ten thousand dragons worth of Pentoshi coins and deposited them in his money pouch. He copied all the documents, books and scrolls to go through them at a later date.

He quickly walked out of the place and easily made his escape without alerting any guards of his presence. The rest of the evening was spent the same way and by the end of which Domeric was some sixty thousand gold dragons richer. His targets were those merchants and magisters that did not employ warlocks in their services. Domeric knew that even though he didn't steal much some of the magisters are going to definitely find out so he would have to do something to take the heat off him.

As he was crossing through a town square he heard what sounded like some bard singing and playing an instrument that could only be great grandfather of a modern day guitar. The song was not that bad but severely out of tune. Then Domeric recalled something that he had read before regarding Pentos. Magisters and merchants in Pentos are great patrons of art especially of music.

Domeric knew that he was no Ed Sheeran but using his morphing abilities he could definitely do better than almost all of the musicians of this age and day. It would be a good way to misdirect people into thinking that he was a very good friend of Quintus who was visiting Pentos to gain some patronage.

Pentos was famous for music and other arts. So, it won't be so out of place for a budding singer to perform in Pentos at his friend's behest. He would have to talk to Quintus about this before he could proceed further.

He reached the mansion at just the right time as the dinner was about to start. He took a chair at the head table beside Quintus, greeted him and then dug in the meal.

"I wanted to talk about an idea that I hatched on my way here that I would like your help with." Domeric told Quintus in hopeful tone.

"Go ahead." Quintus responded with a serious look on his face.

"I am quite good with music and I want a chance to perform in front of some audience so that the people will think that I am some recluse bard from west." Domeric explained his idea to Quintus. He thought it over for a moment before replying in a nod so Domeric continued, "I want a good crowd so the rumors will spread far and wide not to mention farther away from the truth."

"That could be arranged, a rich magister's heir is marrying a merchant princess of Volantis on the day after tomorrow who happens to be a good friend of mine so getting you in should not be an issue. It is going to be fairly large affair and you will even get a chance to gain some patronage." He confirmed after which Domeric moved to his room where he spent his remaining time decoding the letter before Mesta arrive and they continued the activities from previous night.

 _Domeric's POV…_

The next morning I decided to confront Quintus and propose my plan to him as I was getting bored in Pentos. That is how I find myself seated with Quintus in his personal solar as this meeting needed top privacy.

"Quintus I have seen your work these past few days and I am impressed by your efficiency and work ethic. I have a proposal for you." I explained to him.

"Thank you for your kind complement and I would very much like to hear you out." He told me while looking proud and a tad bid embarrassed.

"I want a lot of things from Pentos but I don't have time to come here every other day. I want you to work for me; I will get a trusted individual to work with and you will get many business contacts in Braavos and Gulltown." I told him while looking straight in his eyes.

"I would like to accept but you haven't told me the exact details." He answered me cautiously.

"I want money from the trade that you will be doing in my name. I know you have some money but not enough for me to make you my partner so you will be my employ." I told him upfront and waited for his reaction. When he only nodded his head I decided to continue.

"You will have to establish a spy network and find a suitable spy master that wouldn't betray our secrets at the drop of the hat. I also think that you should buy some fifty or so unsullied as it will be impossible for anyone to buy their loyalty and to make them further loyal to you, free them and give them a choice that they can either go their own way or they could join you. I have some other plans too but they will only come in fruition when you have already established yourself here." I explained to him. He looked thoughtful for a moment but I could tell his decision already.

"I accept but I will require more details and guidance as I have little experience in building my own spy network." He told me quietly.

I smiled and the rest of the day was spent in discussion and planning. In the end I decided to leave two-hundred thousand gold dragons worth of coins to Quintus who will be later on joined by Liam after his work in Braavos is completed. I also gave Quintus some hundred spy pendants for establishing an initial network that Liam could later on spend upon.

I was a bit worried that the warlocks deployed in Pentos will detect the magic in pendants so I decided to inscribe a magic suppression rune in the pendants so that it will be hard to detect but I was still not sure how well it will work. The drawing of runes took most of the afternoon and evening so at least it gave me something productive to do.

In the night Quintus informed me that he has arranged for me to participate in the upcoming high-profile marriage but I will only get one song. I decided to sing 'I see fire' by Ed Sheeran which will fit perfectly in this era.

I also recognized the fact that I will have to get some proper clothes for the performance and ceremony after as I was both a guest and performer. So, I took Mesta with me and went for some cloth shopping. The clothes that I purchased were a bit loose but that was easily solved as soon as I reached in the confines of my quarters.

The ceremony was to take place in the late evening and I had the rest of the day all by myself so I started reading documents and books that I had copied from various magisters and merchants. There was not much in the books except for the finer details of history and battles though there were a few that spoke about the legends of White Walkers and dragons along with few more other creatures such as Basilisk.

The books did not have a lot on magic either but it was concluded that the magic had starte0d to leave the world after the Doom of Valyria and finally vanished at the end of the Dance of the Dragons. I was sure that the magic will be returning soon enough though the exact time I could not predict.

The evening came and went, it was nothing terribly exciting, though I was hounded by many a magisters to perform for them. My performance was greatly celebrated and the magister gave me a fat purse of some five thousand gold dragons as my patronage for the night. Some of the more insistent merchants were given promises of future performances for them. I gained quite a positive attention, so did Quintus as he was my sponsor.

The following day I decided to travel back to Runestone as my business in Pentos was over and I was needed elsewhere. After saying my goodbyes I flew towards the camp that the party had set up when we were hunting in the snake woods.

I was happy after the establishing my base in Pentos as it means that I have moved another piece in the game and the people were still unaware of it, by this time it felt like I was preparing for a major world-wide prank rather than playing game of thrones.

 **To be continued...**


	11. Chapter 11: Mountain Clans

**Author Notes:**

 **1\. Before anything, I would like to thank all my loyal readers for their continued support.**

 **2\. There are a couple of POLLS that I would like people to VOTE in like...right now!**

 **3\. Lastly, I am looking for a BETA, I am not really sure if I will select one but if you are interested then PM me. If we can get on the same page a lot of load will be lifted off me. Thanks for reading!**

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 **Chapter-11: Mountain Clans**

It was two months before anything of interest happened in Runestone after his visit to Pentos. The rider that he had sent with a letter to his father had arrived through White Harbor with the shipment and retinue of six other Bolton men that he had asked him to send. He needed more men who were loyal to him as two of his men were with Liam. Most of them were teenagers, much easier to impress and influence than already grown ones.

So for the next month he oversaw the training of his men who were led by a bastard of his father's bannermen. The lad, Brandon, had some talent with the blade so Domeric took his training more seriously and started concocting plans to get him knighted as soon as possible. He was in need of a trusted knight that can also work as a commander. Sell-swords are all well and good but he needed a man who could watch his back in a serious fight.

It all changed when Billy came to him and told him that he had successfully arranged a meeting between him and the mountain clans. It was not an easy thing and he had to remind them that Domeric and Lord Royce were both descendants of the Red Kings and Bronze Kings of old respectively. He was happy and a bit apprehensive too and was preparing for the meeting along with Lord Royce.

The meeting would be taking place in the mountains surrounding Ironoaks and Redfort. So it came as no surprise to Domeric that Lady Anya Waynwood and Lord Horton Redfort had decided to join their party. The party expanded from previous twenty men to a small entourage of near hundred men. He was not exactly happy with it but was prepared for something just like that.

As soon as they reached the place, a tent was erected near the area for their temporary council who were going to discuss the upcoming meeting.

Lord Royce gave the reins of his horse to one of his men and turned to face both Domeric and Andar.

"Come Andar, Domeric, we have yet to explain our plan to others which won't be an easy task." Domeric and Andar followed after Lord Royce in the tent.

As soon as he entered he started observing the people present in the place. Some looked like they wanted to be anywhere but there while others were at least a bit curious.

Lord Royce took his seat at the head as he had called for the meeting and begun making introductions, through which Domeric started putting names to the faces for future references. There were many people including Lady Waynwood, her heir and eldest son Ser Morton Waynwood and lastly her grandson Roland. He was then introduced to Lord Redfort, his eldest son and heir Jasper who was around his own age. There were also some knights that came with the various parties.

"Now that we all are here we can discuss the idea in more detail. Since Domeric was the one who came up with it I think that he should open up the talks." Lord Royce declared. Now that the attention was on him, he acted like he was a bit nervous but was bravely trying to not let it show.

"I know what you all are thinking, my lords and my lady. You are thinking that there have been many talks before so how will it be different than any previous one." Domeric announced to them and found many of them nodding their heads though if they found it a bit annoying to deal with a kid they did not show it.

"In all the past peace talks the Vale lords asked them to leave the land which they claim as their birthright. Hence, the situation never reached any conclusion. I do not want to repeat the same mistakes. Instead of asking them to leave the land we will ask them to peacefully co-exist with us." Domeric proposed to them and immediately many voices rose in outrage but he noticed that Lady Waynwood was silent during the exchange.

Before the tent descended into complete chaos Lord Royce' voice cut through, "Silence, I will hear him out."

"Thank you my lord, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted." Here he threw a glare to people present in the tent and many of them looked a bit ashamed while others just scoffed, "We could allow them to live in the mountains if they form an alliance with Houses Royce, Waynwood and Redford."

"Why only our houses, why not with House Arryn? They are the great house of the Vale and it will reflect poorly upon us if we did not take their status in account." Lady Waynwood asked smoothly.

"I agree with you my lady. It would have been ideal if they were willing to accept the Arryn domain. However we both know that the Vale mountain clans see House Arryn as their main enemy and invaders. They would never peacefully and willingly subject themselves to reign of an Arryn." Domeric stated calmly, slowly building more confidence and passion in his stance.

"Do you think that they will be open to this insane idea of your boy? Do you think that they will just come under our banners?" Lord Redfort taunted.

Domeric's eyes flashed dangerously as soon as Redfort called him "boy". Lord Redfort certainly took note of it and looked unnerved though the rest remained blissfully oblivious to it.

"They will never join you, experience should have taught you as much by now. However, if you bow in respect to them, do you really think that they won't bow back in return?" Domeric asked rhetorically.

"Never! I would never show even an ounce of respect for those savages," shouted one of the Waynwood knights and many other cried in agreement like a herd of sheep following after one another.

"So you would have your home raided and burnt but would not form a treaty with people to prevent this pointless and unending violence. If you have nothing constructive to add besides your biased and arrogant opinion then you should leave the talks to your elders." Domeric snapped back to the knight which effectively silenced the ones with a lot of hot air but little facts.

"My lords, the Old Ways force them to be courteous to their guests under the terms of parlay. They will have to conduct proper guest rites whether they like it or not. I only ask you to maintain the expected decorum while being in their region."

"This situation must not be taken lightly. These clans pose a massive internal security problem for Vale." Domeric once again said calmly.

"How so," Roland Waynwood asked with a bit of confusion showing on his face.

"Well, let us suppose for the sake of argument that Vale is in a war with one or more of the seven kingdoms." They were taken by surprise by the blunt sentence but Domeric continued regardless.

"Your enemy will find opening in your defenses by supplying the clans with better steel weapons and other useful resources. You cannot efficiently fight war at so many fronts at the same time." Domeric explained to him and saw the looks of realization that came upon their faces.

"Though not all will employ this strategy but you could expect both Reach and Westerlands to do so as they have no shortage of gold and the castle forged steel." It was a subtle jab but the tightening of the faces told him that he had hit home with the matter. Lord Royce though was smiling in approval. 'Seems like he caught my manipulation, sweet man Yohn Royce,' he thought.

"On top of that what I and Lord Royce were able to find was that there are at least two thousand clansmen out there in the mountains. You can expect close to twelve hundred of them capable of fighting." As soon as he announced the people in the tent became extremely uneasy.

There had never been any official numbers recorded but it was estimated that they were just close to a thousand. So, this news suitably unbalanced the lords gathered in the pavilion.

At last Lady Waynwood asked, "What do you have in mind then?"

"I am the heir to House Bolton and am still considered to be descended of the First Men among the Vale clansmen so they will be more likely to listen to me than to you and it certainly helps that I follow the old ways and believe in the Old Gods." He spoke up before another argument could be started.

Though they were nervous and unsure about the decision they gave their consent to it. Just as he was going to say something a large horn sounded and a guard walked in.

He bowed and said, "My Lord Royce, the clansmen have arrived."

Lord Royce did not say anything but rose to his feet quickly while the others followed his example. Lord Royce was the first to be out of the tent closely followed by Domeric and Ser Andar.

Their party followed the path going through the pass and as soon as they turned the corner they could see the various tribes that came for the parley. There were more or less some two hundred clansmen. They indicated towards the cave where the meeting was going to take place.

Domeric was the first to enter the cave. He showed a remarkable amount of trust in the mountain clans, impressing some of them. He was quite happy that Billy has made arrangements to his specification.

There was a large regtangular table in the middle with chairs on either side of it. He took the seat at head of the table while Lord Royce sat to his right and Lord Redfort to his left, Lady Waynwood to his left and Andar to Lord Royce's right. Soon the head of the tribes joined them and Billy as well, who was there as a mediator and was going to conduct the introductions.

There was Shagga from Stone Arrows, Timmet from Burned Men, Chella from Black Ears, Ulf from Moon Brothers and Bael from Painted Dogs were the main leaders for hill tribes. There were also other tribe leaders from milk snakes, sons of the mist, redsmiths, howlers and sons of the trees along with some minor clanheads.

"Why have ya called us for little man?" Chella asked Domeric in both a condensing and a curious tone.

"I want to discuss the possibility of forming an alliance with the mountain clans." He proposed without preamble. Billy had already informed them about it so there was no need to sugarcoat it.

"You want us to be like ya, to bend the knee to the Andal scums!" Timmet immediately shouted out and many of the other clansmen made voices of agreement. Domeric was surprised but only just for a moment.

He was not expecting an easy task but he was not expecting this level of hostility either. It seems that he had underestimated the difficulty level of the job.

"Do you have pea for brains you shit stain! Who said anything about taking the knee!? I was talking about a pact not fealty you blockhead." He snapped back loudly at him and stunning them for the moment and once again putting himself in the commanding position.

He had learned way back that the best way to deal with less customary elements of the society was to speak with them in their own language. In these kinds of meetings, reasons and facts are usually abandoned in favor of shouting and accusations.

"What kind of pact are you talking about little Bolton." Shagga inquired.

"Why, a simple one of course. I do not want to make it any more complex than you do. All the gathered lords feel that we should just operate out of each other's way for now."

"You do not attack any of the men of these houses and we will leave you alone. Additionally, come winter if you need anything we can supply, you will have it. In return if Vale is under attack from any outside forces you will have to come to their aid. You won't have to bend the knee but according to the pact you will swear an oath to come to the aid." Domeric proposed to them in a firm and strong voice. He did not want to use magic but if it came to it he will do it in a heartbeat.

He let them mull over it for a moment before delivering his ace. "To sweeten the deal I have a gift for you that you will like very much so." He indicated towards the servants who came in with pots covered with clothes. There were some twenty pots and he hoped that they will be well received.

"Go on then, you can unveil the pots." He urged them on as soon as the pots were placed on the table. Shagga was the first to reach out and uncover the pots. There were gasps heard from all around in the cave. The weirwood saplings that were present in the pots held a lot of spiritual importance to clansmen.

The clansmen were in awe of the weirwood as it was something that had been denied to them for long. Some of them were reverently touching the plants as though still unable to comprehend what they were seeing.

The lords of the Vale were an entirely different matter in this case though. They did not look happy with the gift but did not look like to protest either as they had seen the effect that weirwood plants were having on the opposing leaders. This was the real maker that Domeric had planned all along and they understood as much.

It took some time and discussion between the hill tribes before they finally consented with the pact and swore to ally themselves with House Royce, Redford and Waynwood for now. They did not swear to the name Arryn which was expected from them. However, they will be loosely tied to House Arryn through the other houses and that will keep the Lord Hand satisfied for some time.

As the other parties left, Lord Royce and his party were the only ones that remained. The others were under the assumption that they were waiting for Billy to join them but Domeric was going to have his own private meeting.

They once again entered the cave, this time only the head of the major clans and Billy were present besides him and Lord Royce.

"Now, you must be thinking why I called you back for a private meeting." Domeric said and saw them nodding their head in agreement though they were grumbling about it.

"Before we proceed, I would like to know what the hill tribes know about magic." He bluntly asked once again. Billy had once told him that it is better to be blunt with them rather than trying to trap in some fancy words.

They were never fans of big words and immediately distrusted anyone trying to be polite and charming. It took a bit convincing (screaming and threatening) before they gave him any answers.

They eventually told him everything that they knew and remembered about magic. They confirmed that the First Men believed in magic but gradually the number of people trained in the arts began dwindling down.

The children of the forests were the lead practitioner with most of the major noble houses involved in it. In fact it was the very reason they became noble houses because they had magic which they used in fighting the Great Other and his forces.

The noble houses were nothing more than small clans that were ruled by a strong greenseer, skinchanger or even by the Westeroi equivalent of wizards. Slowly it was observed that powerful wizards gave birth to other powerful magical children giving rise to the notion of bloodlines. These leaders soon became hereditary and the clans continued to grow.

Before long these clans began merging with other clans, ruling over them and in some instances outright annihilating them. This all happened after the pact was formed on the Isle of Faces. In few centuries these houses declared their own kings and the fight over resources and lands began in earnest.

While the children of the forest tried to keep peace in the lands with various groups of human, it was largely considered an unattainable notion. However, the fighting began to dwindle down with the rise of many great houses like Stark, Bolton, Umber, Blackwood, Royce, Casterly, Durrandon, Gardener, etc.

Now, the wars were fought on even larger scale but also at larger intervals. The ruling elites of the region continued to conquer more and more and soon only a handful kings remained. It continued like that till the Andals finally arrived.

By the time it happened, the political and military power had gained the prevalence over the more mystical arts. Few noble houses even acknowledged that their ancestors had once wielded the power beyond logical comprehension after becoming part of the new culture. The arrival of the Faith ensured that any remaining influence of the children was completely wiped out south of the neck as they further retreated to the North.

The information that the clansmen provided was not even quarter of what was described above. It was only with the help of accounts from family libraries of House Royce and Bolton and the various scrolls that he had _acquired_ that he was able to make any sense of the bigger picture.

Some would have dismissed the others, wargs and dream-seers as myths but he knew more about myths and certainties than any man in this era. He knew that even legends possess a silver of truth in them, which is also why he accepted their information. They were hence once again suitably pleased and shocked by the faith that Domeric showed in them.

Furthermore they admitted that they had some wood witches and greenseers in their midst before the Targaryen dragons died who used to guide them in their raids and skirmishes. After that, the gift of magic became sparse among them. It was a matter of great shame for someone of First Men's blood to lose their connection to magic.

"Magic is returning that much I am sure of." He asserted.

"How can you be so sure, have you any proof." Bael was the one to pitch the question though he did not deny the claim. Domeric observed that the clan leaders were more relaxed and ready to listen in this private meeting than the previous one.

'This is it. This is going to be the break it or make it moment of this whole meeting.' He was still not completely sure that showing them some of his brand of magic will endear him to them or not, or even if it was wise to do so. More and more people were getting to know about his magic and the constant battle between need for secrecy and need for allies was mentally straining him.

Domeric finally plucked some courage and decided to do something that will be related closer to the old wargs than the real deal. In that regard he called for a messenger raven in the tent.

He looked in the eyes of the bird and suddenly slouched in his seat. The people present were further shocked when the raven flew through the air and gave them a mocking bow while unfurling its wings.

While everyone thought that it was warging, only Domeric had any idea about the complexity of the task that he had just completed. He had used a very advanced form of legilimency to take control of the bird. It was like an overpowered imperious or compulsion charm, forcing the bird to do his bidding.

Soon their looks of shocked disbelief changed to that of awe and a bit of unease which was not entirely unexpected. It changed a lot of things for them, magic was an important part of their society in the past and seeing the proof of its continued existence had thoroughly rattled them. They finally calmed down some time later and this time Timmet was the first one to break the silence.

"So, what do you truly want from us Lord Bolton?" He asked him rather formally which managed to surprise the wizard.

"I want you all to swear an oath to not divulge this information to anyone as there are many within the realm who would want to use me for my abilities. I will sooner die before giving them the satisfaction of having control over me."

"On the other hand, the Faith will become a thorn in my side if they gained this knowledge and will try to get involved in any business regarding me." Domeric told them firmly and they decided to honor the request without creating much fuss.

"The earlier question though, still remains. Why tell us?" One of the leaders once again demanded.

"I was getting to it. I know that even after the treaty your people will be discriminated and won't find any acceptance in Vale. The North however is a different matter. There are other clans like yours in the mountains of North. They do not venture much but are still well respected and widely accepted as peers." Domeric explained.

"I want the clans from Vale to join me and settle down in the Bolton lands. You and I both know that the fight here is lost and you will be forced to perish one day if you continue down the path you are going. The fight against Andals is by no means has ended, however you must leave these mountains for now." He implored and was surprised that instead of hearing screaming and obscenities, he was greeted with a thoughtful silence.

"The cause is lost here my friends, you should think about defending the North where the old ways are still followed instead fighting a losing battle. You could make alliances there and could even help your friends here who want to remain in these mountains, in establishing themselves better as I am sure not everyone will be willing to leave."

"I will try my hardest to bring the Old Gods and weirwood back in Vale but some of you must travel to Lonely Hills where you will be welcomed in Bolton or even in Umber lands if you choose so. I will even convince Lord Stark personally if I have to but I promise to you that you will have a place in the North." He promised them and they seemed to be seriously considering it.

"We will begin the preparations Heir Bolton but it will take at least a year or so before we can move towards North and another two months even by the sea to reach the place." Shagga answered at long last.

"Very well, it will also give me some time to smooth things over with both Lord Stark and my own father." He responded back.

Domeric rose from my seat grinned towards them and held out his hand for a shake. Shagga snorted before responding in kind with others following his example.

They soon took their leave but not before he gave Shagga one of his communication mirrors. It took them four days before they finally reached Runestone. During the entire journey he was thinking on how to proceed further. He truly did not know what to do next which for him was something akin to a novelty.

'Perhaps a visit to Braavos to check on Markov or maybe a visit to King's Landing will be most prudent. Ah well I am not worried something will come up, it always does.' Life was nothing if not interesting for Harry Potter or…Domeric Bolton.

 **To be continued...**

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 **Don't forget the POLL !**


	12. Chapter 12: Visiting Winterfell

**Chapter-12: Visiting Winterfell**

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 _Present time: 294 AL…_

"Keep your shield up, the moment you start to focus too much on attacking with your sword, and forget about your shield is the moment that you will be dead." Lord Royce instructed Domeric. They were currently sparing with wooden swords in the training grounds under the heat of afternoon sun.

Domeric panted with exhaustion as he tries to keep up with Lord Royce's superior strength which was clearly not working. So, instead of blocking and parrying the blows he started to dodge and deflect the blocks more.

He began using his better speed and lean built to his advantage but, beating 'Bronze Yohn' was currently out of his reach. It was proven true when Yohn disarmed Domeric using a complicated maneuver.

As Domeric lay on the ground huffing and out of breathe, a servant arrives and speak to Lord Royce. Domeric was not close enough to listen exactly what was said but he did not have to wonder for long as Lord Royce indicates for him to follow him.

That is how we find one Domeric Bolton, now a boy of three and ten, waiting for Lord of Runestone in the godswood. Domeric had grown well during his stay at Runestone; he was now 5'5" tall and still possessed his lean built. His body had some well developed muscles and a beginning of six packs that was result of a rather vigorous combat training done over the past two years.

As, he sat there in front of heart tree he let his mind wonder like he usually did when he was bored or in this case waiting on someone. He observed many weirwood saplings that were planted soon after their meeting with the hill tribe.

The septon had been in rather foul mood but Lord Royce had convinced him that for better relations with hill tribes and North, he was merely trying to show respect towards their religion. Of course the ruse only worked for some time as septon started to take note that both the lord and heir of the family were frequent visitors in the godswood.

So it came as no surprise to Domeric that the same septon's head was adorning the castle walls some time later, when he, in his infinite wisdom decided that burning the weirwood trees was a highly good idea and once the trees were burned the lord and heir of the house will come back to the faith of the seven.

If the septon was foolish or merely misguided Domeric knew not and frankly he did not care either. Though the action brought a lot of negative heat to Lord Yohn, he did not falter or regret it once. The man dealt with it in his own way by remaining strong and not responding to any kind of rumors. Domeric himself helped in crushing many of the said rumors and even spread some counter rumors too.

Domeric focused once again on his surroundings when he saw Yohn Royce making his way towards him. As soon as he reached Domeric, he wordlessly handed a letter to him. Domeric read the letter and released a heavy sigh. He looks up and then announces grimly.

"Well dear uncle, it seems my father wants me back in North for the harvest feast." 'More than likely, to show me off in front of other families so that he can get some marriage proposals for me,' were his morbid thoughts.

"Hmmm, you should go and make some good will in the north. The alliances forged due to close friendships are said to last even longer than those forged out of marriages." Uncle Yohn advised. That is another change that took place in the recent years. Domeric and Lord Royce had grown closer than ever before and even though they had no blood ties they both felt familial love for each other.

"Besides that it will also give me a chance to meet with Aunt Barbrey." Domeric said out loud more to himself than Lord Royce.

"Yes. You should start packing soon if you wish to travel by roads. When you see Ned's frozen face give him greetings for me will you!" Yohn said energetically to Domeric, smiling lightly with a fond expression on his face.

He smirked in amusement and said, "Will do."

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So that is how we find Domeric and his retinue of Bolton men moving towards Winterfell in hurry to make it before his father's arrival. He wanted to discuss some things with Lord Stark in private, the coming discussion was also going to be a lengthy one that is why all the haste.

The men with him were loyal to him before they were loyal to his father even though they were admittedly Bolton men; he had personally trained them upon handpicking them. They feed his father only the information that he wanted his father to know, nothing more nothing less.

Night soon fell; Domeric however was wide awake in the bed at the crossroad inn. His thoughts started to drift towards the activity of the past two years.

He had travelled a lot in these past years to free cities in order to ensure that the trading empire he was trying to build did not collapse before its establishment.

After the Pact of Red Mountains, the name the treaty with mountains clans was widely known as, he had first travelled to Braavos. There he had stayed for a couple of days and had relieved Liam of his duty. He had assisted Markov in gathering information against some of the magistrates who were creating a lot of problem for the company.

In that time he had gone to Iron Bank and had opened an account in name of House Peverell and had deposited some two hundred thousand gold dragons. The account was under monitor for some time as it had garnered attention by becoming one of the bigger accounts. It was not even among the top hundred but the deposition of large money out of nowhere under a non-existence house did not go as unnoticed as he had hoped for.

When asked he simply smiled and said that he found the buried treasure in the Smoking Sea, of course nobody believed him but there was no need for secrecy in the case as all Domeric wanted was to earn interest on his money that he had no use for at the time.

He continued to visit Braavos in every three months, sometimes for a scant few hours and sometimes for weeks. During this period he watched his sell-sword company grow from mere twenty men to a force of six hundred.

It was far from the best company out there, but they had gained a fierce reputation for their honor and worth ethic. They had named themselves the Free Wings for their belief in freedom of a man while also secretly depicting their allegiance towards House Peverell who had taken thunderbird as its sigil.

It was led by none other than the former first sword of Braavos, Syrio Forel who was closely tied to the Faceless Men. Domeric would have been worried if not for the fact that the man was loyal to him even without the magic of chain. Syrio knew that a man from Westeros was their true benefactor and that is where their loyalties lay but he did not know Domeric's true identity.

Domeric woke up with the dawn of the day and quickly got ready to head out. At the pace they were going, they will be able to reach Winterfell two days before the other lords started arriving.

The further north they went, the colder the air became. They passed the Neck using the Kingsroad and Domeric for the first time saw Moat Cailin.

The gateway to the north was very lightly garrisoned and was nothing but ruins. Domeric knew that the Moat was in poor condition but saying that he was disappointed would be an understatement.

The once strong and proud fortress of twenty towers was reduced to a pile of bricks that made for the three standing towers. The sight depressed him somewhat, the place that protected not only Starks but also his own ancestors from Andals and later the Targaryens was in such a sorry state and no one was doing anything about it.

They camped at the Moat for the night after which they once again set their horses at a brisk pace.

The vastness that was north could be seen in all its glory as Domeric and his company rode along the Kingsroad. Even after living in Britain for so long as Harry Potter, he still felt more connection to North than he had ever felt for Britain.

Maybe it was because of the responsibility that he felt towards his people or maybe it was the product of his harsh and militaristic upbringing at his father's hands or it was something else entirely. But he felt most content when among his people. There was just something in the air that smelt of home to Domeric.

At the mention of smell Domeric couldn't help but think about Lorath; the so called city of mazes. He once travelled to the city and was highly unimpressed by the pathetic state of the small-folk. If Westeros' had not required so much of his time, he would have personally gone down there to conquer the place and put every Magister to sword.

The city smelled badly of shit and fish. It was just not that, everything about the city was fishy, bad pun it may have been but true none the less. The city was ruled by a council of magisters who were corrupted to their very core. If you think that the magisters in Pentos were bad then the ones that ruled Lorath were evil reincarnated.

His initial contact, Tor U'lgis was no different. The man was greedy and depraved to the level that Domeric had never seen before, neither in this life or the past one. But he worked with what he could and learned that there was a resistance group of people who wanted to bring the Council of Three Princes back to power.

He met one of their key people and from what little time he spent there, was able to see that the group was composed of hard-working and honest people. He sympathized with them so decided to meet with their commander Drelek Treanys and allied himself to their cause. They came to an understanding that Drelek would work for him and in return Domeric would work for betterment of Lorath.

From then on he made regular trips to the place and even sent Liam there for some months to establish a better spy network for the resistance.

All was not good though; the venture was taking too much time and was not making enough profit. But he continued in his pursuit as he had realized that the rebellion will take a lot of time however the benefits and opportunities that will come if he succeeded in the process will be well worth the resources spent.

As Winterfell came in sight, all other thoughts left him. The castle was impressive and massive which gave an aura of power and character. The outer wall was at least eighty feet high and the inner one was even higher.

The castle had been standing there for some eight thousand years and was far older than Hogwards. The thing that most amazed and excited the wizard was the magic that he could feel in the air. It was thick ancient magic that was more powerful than anything that he had ever felt before.

Now he truly understood how Starks were able to rule the North for this long. They were not only honorable but also more magically powerful than any other house in the north. He had not felt this kind of excitement in months and he was ready to explore the castle.

As soon as they came in the range of archers manning the outer walls and towers, a party of riders meets them. Their leader broke from their ranks and announced loudly.

"Halt. I am Jory Cassel, captain of the guards of Winterfell. In name of Lord Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I demand you to state your name and business gentlemen."

"I am Domeric Bolton, heir of House Bolton of Dreadfort. I was ordered by my father to come to Winterfell for the harvest feast." Domeric told him calmly.

As soon as he hears his family name, the captain's whole demeanor changed.

"But the harvest feast is not till the next week." He said somewhat rudely but Domeric let it slide this one time.

"We had started somewhat early in fear of being delayed by bandits in Riverlands but fortunately we were spared any kind of fighting there." He told him coldly. Domeric may not have called out on his rudeness but it did not mean that he could not show his displeasure in other ways.

Apparently Jory was smart enough to realize that too because he quickly apologized and led them towards the castle. Once there the captain guided them towards the stable where they tied their horses. Domeric was then taken to meet Lord Stark in his solar.

Eddard Stark was a man in his mid thirties with long dark brown hair, cool grey eyes, a closely trimmed beard and a solemn face. He was the very image of a northern lord and Domeric was not ashamed to admit at all that he was a bit intimated in his presence. However, he was quick to remember his curtsies and knelt before him with his head bowed.

"Lord Stark, I, Domeric of House Bolton, hereby pledge my loyalty to you and House Stark and renew the fealty that my House owes to House Stark."

Lord Stark came around the table that he had been using and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Rise Heir Bolton, I, Lord Eddard of House Stark recognizes your pledge and grant you guest right for as long as you wish to stay." Lord Stark stated warmly.

"Thank you my lord for your kind gesture." He responded and smiled politely while the Stark Lord nodded his head and returned to his previous seat.

"Please sit." He commanded and Domeric promptly sat down.

"Let me first congratulate you on successfully negotiating a treaty with hill tribes on behalf of Houses Royce, Waynwood and Redfort and that to without bloodshed. Lord Arryn was quite impressed by your negotiation skills and had sent a rare tome to Dreadfort as a sign of his appreciation."

"Though he wished that the hill tribes had allied themselves to his own house, however he understands your position. He was quite grateful for your efforts." Lord Stark declared somewhat proudly and Domeric was pleasantly surprised by Lord Hand's kind gesture.

"I will be sure to express my gratitude for the gift through a letter." He told him and Lord Stark nodded his head in approval.

"Also Lord Yohn Royce sent his greetings. In his words 'when you see Ned's frozen face say him hello for me'." Domeric told him with an amused smile and succeeded in bringing a smile on Eddard's face.

"I believe you must be quite tired of the journey so let me first introduce you to my family, after which you will be shown to your room where you can rest and recuperate." He commanded firmly and he just nodded his head in acceptance.

They exited the solar and Domeric came face to face with the other members of House Stark. He knew that he needed to make a good impression on the other members of House Stark so he plastered a charming smile on his face that may or may not have been genuine.

First he was introduced to Lady Catelyn Stark nee Tully, a southern lady people called her. Even after giving birth to five children she did not lose her beauty, in fact being mother seems to agree with her.

"My lady, I apologize for arriving ahead to time and will like to thank you for your hospitality." He bowed his head and placed a soft kiss on her hand.

She smiled kindly and said, "Don't worry my lord, it was no trouble and we are very happy to receive you."

The next was the heir of Winterfell Robb Stark, he and Domeric were of same age. He honestly looked more Tully than Stark, what with the auburn hair and blue eyes, but the way he stood reminded Domeric of Lord Stark himself.

"Well met Heir Stark." Domeric told him and extended his hand. They exchanged a firm handshake and Robb gave him his own greeting.

As Domeric moved to the next child, he was immensely surprised by the beauty that was Sansa Stark. Even as the girl of only nine she was quite beautiful and will only grow more with time. If one was to look closely they would have been able to see pain in his eyes.

Sansa reminded him of Ginny. It reminded him of all the good times that he had with her, every memory that he had of her was still fresh in his mind. So, yeah the pain that he felt after all these years was still very much real but he suppressed it ruthlessly to focus on the present.

Her eyes held innocence which told him she was still just a child even though she was at the cusp of womanhood. As Domeric kissed her hand she blushed and he thought, 'Not so innocent now, are we.' This went on and Domeric quickly greeted the energetic Bran, the rebellious Arya, and the wild Rickon.

Domeric was quickly shown to his room where he would stay for the rest of his time in Winterfell. He took a quick nap in his bed before the meal time came around. His thoughts after waking up once again drifted to the free cities that he had visited, especially Pentos.

Quintus proved to be a remarkable overseer and a resourceful ally. Domeric was making a lot of money from his investments in Pentos especially in spice production department.

He had set up several production units in Pentos in the name of House Peverell where various spices were grinded, finely powdered and then finally packed. He was also selling a large number of packed flavorings for many dishes.

The small-folk did not trust the packed products at first but his product was far cheaper than the ones sold in open market. It soon gained popularity with not only the commoners but also with the nobles.

To maintain the status quo, he started packing two kinds of products. One was the standard product while the other one was premium package. If the nobles thought that they were using the same product as the commoners then they will be sure to buy something else, regardless of the fact that his flavorings were currently the best.

The product was soon well received in both Essos and Westeros. It was nothing special just a special mixture of various spices and even some herbs. However, nobody knew that as the recipe was kept secret to establish a monopoly.

It was a clever move on Domeric's part. Quintus also managed to convince Braavos to let him keep five war ships in Pentos in exchange of fairer prices on the products. Domeric's trade fleet all across the free-cities was composed of some hundred ships now. He also owned ten warships that were used as an escort force for some of the larger merchant vessels.

He could also call on another twenty ships that were either personally owned by his overseers or some of his other allies.

However, not everything was sunshine and daisies. The letter that he had found on the mage in Pentos finally revealed its secrets. The magician was an apprentice to one of the Warlocks of Qarth.

The House of Undying was hired by many magisters and merchant princes across Essos for protection against Faceless Men. Apart from them, warlocks of Qohor and Shadow-binders from Asshai were the only other factions that were capable of defending against the House of Black and White.

So, it was not really surprising that the magister had hired the group for protection; fat load of good it did though. What really surprised him was the fact that he was only fighting acolytes. He wondered what a fully trained master of art would be capable of doing.

After the meal, he arranged a meeting with Eddard in godswood, like he was so fond of doing. Varys' spies were everywhere, he cautioned himself but the truth was that he wanted to be surrounded by weirwood trees after so long. Runestone may have weirwood once again but it was nothing compared to the ancient forest of Winterfell.

So that is how we find Domeric waiting in the Godswood admiring the forest that has remained untouched for nearly ten thousand years. The magic in Godswood can only be described in one word: godly.

It was immense and ancient in its might. It gave shivers to Domeric, he felt as if he will be crushed under its primal power. He was once again brought to the land of living by the sound of approaching footsteps. Even as the footsteps reached him he continued to stare towards the heart tree.

"Please sit Lord Stark." He requested but still did not bother looking towards his liege lord. Many would have considered it rude but his tone was ever so respectful that the Stark Lord did not even think about it.

When he did turned, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North was under the heavy gaze that was scrutinizing him for all he was, which was kind of unnerving as the owner of the gaze was a boy of only three and ten. Yet, there was a power in those eyes of his that made him realize that this child was no to be trifled with.

"You are probably wondering why I have asked you to come alone, that too in the godswood." Domeric asks softly and his answer comes in the form of a short nod.

"I have called you alone because the information that I have is sensitive and can even start a war. So that you may believe that I only speak truth, I asked you to be here in godswood." Domeric told him and Eddard inclined his head in understanding.

"Now as for the reason, the North is in danger Lord Stark." Domeric gave the grim news and immediately a grimace came on Eddard's face. While Domeric berated himself in his head for being so direct. He looked in Domeric's eyes and after making sure that he was telling the truth slumped against the nearby tree.

"I…I was afraid of it but I was not sure. But I would like to know how." He asked firmly.

"The seven kingdoms are unstable my lord. The Martells still hold resentment for the ruling dynasty and Lannisters specifically. The trade with Dorne is at an all time law. It won't be so bad if the Martells did not have support of other noble houses but Prince Doran is an excellent ruler and a patient man."

Domeric gave him a meaningful look here and Eddard immediately understood. Dorne would have been satisfied if Robert had given them justice but now, now they are looking for revenge and they won't stop until the complete destruction of the new dynasty.

"The Lannisters have alienated themselves in court with their 'lions do not concern themselves with the opinion of sheep' attitude where everyone but themselves is sheep. They continue to tighten their hold on the capital and horde power by direct or indirect means."

"The Tyrells are ambitious lot, Mace Tyrell want his grandchild to be the one sitting on the Iron Throne. Olenna Tyrell continues to scheme and plot in order to gain more support and power."

Eddard looked fairly troubled. It was widely known fact that the Tyrells were and are still Targaryen loyalists. So, it was a strong possibility that the new dynasty will want to bind them to the throne by the means of a marriage.

"The Riverlords are divided and uneasy on line of succession for Riverrun. Your good-brother Edmure has proven himself to be incompetent. Many of them hold Blackfish in very high regard. Freys of the Crossing on the other hand, are more than likely to follow Lannisters."

"The lords in Stormlands hunger for glory and gold. The tension in Dornish Marshes is on an all time high. The lords in Vale are worried over the health of young Arryn. He is weak and is not likely to survive the coming winter. The Ironborn are once again expanding their fleet but to what end, no one knows."  
"The three Baratheon brothers are constantly at odds and now Lord Jon Arryn is the only man who is holding the realm together as the King spends more and more time in whoring, drinking and hunting. The Iron Throne is already in quite a large debt. I do not know how much but it comes from both the Iron Bank of Braavos and the Lannisters of the Casterly Rock."

As his monologue continued, Lord Stark's face continued to tighten and by the end of it he looked pale and very worried. Domeric gave him the chance to recover from what he had been told and continued his inspection of the heart tree.

"So the war is unavoidable in the near future of the realm." Lord Stark declared with a heavy sigh. 'I am impressed that he concluded that on his own.' He thought sarcastically in his mind.

Honestly, he had nothing against his liege lord but if could not read the political signs then it said something about his ruling capacity. His father always told him that the Starks were not the one to play the game, finding it too dishonorable for their tastes.

He did not fault them of their belief but the game was not about honor, it was about power and survival. If you manage to survive the game then you are definitely a winner, and only a person with enough power can survive this game long enough to become a winner.

"Hmm hmm, as if that was not enough, from what I have heard through my people in the capital, the Crown Prince Joffrey is a vicious and pampered child, mostly due to Queen's influence." Domeric told him and this time his face became unreadable.

"You have spies in the capital." It was not a question but a statement.

"Not only in the capital. They are here in Winterfell too." He admitted to Ned fearlessly. Though his face was impassive Domeric could tell that he was furious.

"Why?" He asked him calmly though his voice had gone cold.

Domeric stared hard in his eyes and decided to trust him. "Well it started like this…" he told him everything that happened in Dreadfort regarding his grandfather's bastard. Eddard was shocked to the core at the level of treachery that was described to him.

"So now you see my lord, what kind of people live in south. I unwittingly walked in this game of shadows. To keep myself alive, I started playing the same game. I will freely admit that I somewhat like playing the game, However, unlike other players, I have drawn some lines that I will never cross." Domeric finishes his account of the case.

"I understand why you did but why spy on your own liege lord." His frustration was now clear in his voice.

"I never spied on you my lord. You might recall that there had been cases in which some household guards and servants had gone missing from the castle." Domeric inquired and he nodded, slightly puzzled about the direction their conversation was going in.

"That was work of my agents who caught them spying for various people and made quick work of them." Domeric reasoned with him. He looked conflicted before sighing and nodded his head in understanding.

"I am grateful for it now that you have explained me your reasons." Domeric's looked hopeful for a moment that he would get off the hook easily.

However, his hopes were crushed when Eddard continued, "But, I would like if you do not spy on me and my family anymore."

"I have a better option. Since you know about them, I will have my spies working here report to you rather than to me. Removing them will be easy but a total waste of perfectly good resources." Domeric argued against him. He pondered there on it for some time before finally agreeing with him.

"Since you are the one who brought this situation up to me I would guess that you also have a plan to deal with it." Eddard asked with a slight smirk on his face

"I do." Domeric smirked back before continuing, "But, I am still tired from all the riding and don't want to overwhelm you with too much information. Besides, it is getting late and I think it will be a good idea to bring your heir, Robb in the fold. I will explain my reasons tomorrow." Domeric requested and although Eddard agreed with him, the wizard easily discerned that the he was conflicted about bringing his son in the meeting.

While Domeric went to his room to sleep off his exhaustion, Eddard Stark was making his way towards the quarters that he shared with his wife. He found her sitting on their bed, lulling little Rickon to sleep.

As soon as he saw that, all his worries melted away and his body involuntarily relaxed from its previous tense and rigid state. He walked behind her and envelope his lady wife in a hug. He stayed like that for a moment, loosing himself in the comfort of the warm embrace and forgetting his anxieties and fears for the future. He finally moved and sat on a chair near the bed.

"What happened to you my lord? You are looking extremely exhausted and worried." Catelyn Stark asked her husband with concern clearly evident in her voice.

"I just met Domeric Bolton in the godswood my lady. He told me things from the South that I did not want to believe for sometimes now, but always knew in my heart were true." Eddard responded back.

"Are you sure we can trust him. Our family and his have never been exactly close." She asked him, clearly worried about the reputation of House Bolton.

"He spoke in the presence of Old Gods, my lady. We cannot dismiss him like that. Whether I can truly trust him or not remains to be seen but I am honor bound to hear out all of my bannermen and he will someday become one of my most powerful bannerman. It can be considered as slight by him." Eddard Stark reasoned with his wife. Lady Stark conceded with him but remain undecided.

"Besides, I think that he has the best interest at heart regarding the North. Hence, we should remain neutral for now." Eddard explains and then they discussed some of the things that Domeric mentioned to Eddard.

The next morning came fast for Domeric. Though he was still exhausted, he was sufficiently energized for the task ahead of him. He ate a healthy breakfast with the family of his liege lord. After which Lord Stark directed him and Robb towards his personal study.

The room was colder than any other in the castle which Domeric thought was deliberately done by the Starks of the old as an effort to either intimidate the guests or to make sure the place did not get too comfy for the lord, it won't do if the acting lord was found taking a nap during work hours after all.

It was a spacious room with the windows and a desk on opposite side of the entrance, bookshelves and cabinets on both side walls and a couple of chairs opposite to the table with the maps of the known world, Westeros and the North hanging on the wall besides the windows and behind the desk.

"Sit." Lord Stark ordered. Robb and Domeric took their seats without any preamble.

"Robb, now that you are here allow me to explain why you are called…" and then Lord Stark filled Robb in the details of the previous day's discussion. There were many questions asked which were suitably replied and only after half an hour of the discussion the meeting progressed any further.

"So, what should we do now?" Robb asks a bit lost after the information overload that he underwent.

"We will have to fortify the North." Lord Stark replied first.

"Aye, for that to work, you will have to rebuild the Moat." Domeric instantly supplied.

"It will take a lot of our funds to build a castle like Moat Cailin up from the ground." Robb contemplated

"It will be our best chance to do so now, as according to the Citadel, winter won't be upon us for the next four years at the very least." Domeric argued back logically.

"While I agree that we will need a large amount of resources to successfully construct the castle, it is clear to me that the North will need the Moat in coming years. So, it is agreed then, we will reconstruct Moat Cailin." Lord Stark declared and the two boys nodded their heads in agreement.

"As for the funds, I have many plans but let us first talk about our martial power and current defenses." Domeric quipped. The other two nodded their heads thinking it to be the best course of action.

"We will need a bigger army to truly compete with southern kingdoms and better weapons too." Lord Stark proposed.

"To gain more army you will have to settle more people in your lands which mean more mouths to feed." Domeric told him straightaway.

"It also means more people available for farming and labor." Robb countered.

"You both are right that is why I think we should establish some new settlements, specifically large towns." Lord Stark put forth.

"Why the large towns and not small villages, after all they are far easier to establish." Robb asked, not truly understanding the level of the undertaking.

"It is easier to safeguard a single town with walls compared to a cluster of smaller settlements. Secondly, in wartime we will be able to assemble our forces faster than before which will give us a distinct advantage over our enemies." Lord Stark answered back.

"It is a highly good idea father, but the question remains is where." Robb wondered.

"I have just the place in my mind. Both me and my father agreed when the last time we exchanged letters that establishing a port town at the natural harbor of Last River will be extremely profitable for our house." Domeric interrupted.

"He had already surveyed the area and had discovered it to be suitable place. My father even went so far as to estimating the relative cost of the project."

Lord Stark looked over his shoulder towards the map of the North with a thoughtful expression on his solemn face.

"That is actually a good idea. It could work as our secondary port for trade and even if our enemies blockade White Harbor, we still would be able to do transport our troops around." Robb declared excitedly and a smile came on his face

"Not only that, we can also safely build a navy fleet there, the area is free from pirates and lumber supply from both Hornwood and Karhold is plenty." Domeric also smiled and tried to sell the idea to Lord Stark as much as possible.

"Aye, there are many benefits and it is almost perfect. It will strengthen the North more than anything else but can I trust your family young Bolton. It will make your father incredibly powerful which is something that I am wary of." He told him frankly.

"No, you cannot trust my father but you can trust me and my father would not go against his golden heir." Domeric told him smiling wryly.

"What is that you want?" Lord Stark asked directly.

"I don't know." Domeric replied with a lost look on his face, because since coming in this world, Harry truly did not know what he desired anymore.

Domeric once again said, "However, my father will take it as a slight if you did not give your approval to it. Not only he spent a lot of efforts on the project but he had always been loyal to you. He respects you and will never openly oppose House Stark as long as you are alive. But, this will definitely sour his view of you."

There was a silence for some time in the room which Lord Stark was the first to break.

"Very well, since you have given me you word, I will allow House Bolton to establish the port town." Lord Stark declared and released a sigh.

Though Domeric merely nodded his head with a small smile on the outside, internally he was doing a happy little jig.

"We have secured east and south which still leave our west unprotected and truthfully it has always been the most vulnerable part of the North. The coastal villages and the Bear Islands constantly face Ironborn attacks, some of which we don't even get to know about because there are no survivors left." Lord stark spoke with both frustration and anger laced in his voice.

"You won't be able to construct a new port town on west coast, as soon as Ironborns discover the existence of town they will come in full power and will raze the town to the ground." Domeric put forth his opinion.

Robb said "But we can expand on the number of ships that the Mormonts, Flints and Glovers currently have."

Lord Stark then suddenly leaned forward and said, "Aye, we can do that or we can do something entirely different." As the two boys leaned forward eagerly he grinned a little and said, "We can build a fleet in the east and then send it to west."

Domeric was surprised by the idea but the more he thought about it the better it sounded. But it will be bloody hard to do the damn thing.

"It can be done, my lord. But, it will be a year long voyage for the crew. I am not sure how much ships will be left after the travel. They will have to brave storms, slavers, pirates and the worst of all the ironborns themselves."

"So, we should not be entirely dependent on it. To top it all, it will take at least two years before the town is fully established and can start building ships." The other two were silent and thoughtful for a full minute.

"Then we will follow both paths." Lord Stark declared.

From there the discussion continued till the lunch time came around. Nothing major was decided upon other than what was already discussed. Some new roads, canals and villages would be built across the north. The Kingsroad would also to be repaired as would be some of the major keeps and lookouts in Wolfswood.

The keep in Borrowtown will to be converted in a fort of modest size as soon as the work at Moat Cailin is completed. The group of three quickly ate their lunch and left the table in hurry leaving many people confused and curious.

Domeric knew that the guards outside the door were loyal so he did not bother raising privacy charms around the place but he did apply some notice-me-not wards. They quickly seated themselves in their previous positions.

"We have already talked about making our country more powerful from outside forcess but it does not mean that there won't be internal conflicts." Domeric said slowly so as to ease the shock that the two Starks were sure to feel and boy, were they shocked.

"What!?" "Explain!", the two shouts of younger and elder Stark came at the same time.

"Your father, Lord Rickard, was not well liked by the northern lord in his later years. Many thought of him to be an irresponsible person who was too much ambition for his own good. While there were some others who followed him either blindly or truly understood his reasons, the majority greatly disliked his ways."

"I belong to neither faction but that is not the point. The point is that the lords of North were divided because of this. Most of the lords of that time and age are dead but there are still those like my grandfather Lord Ryswell who hold no love for the Starks." The wizard calmly explained.

"I understand what you are trying to say, but why the Ryswells specifically." Robb asked. Domeric had been trying to give them a hint and Robb quickly caught on it.

"Your uncle Brandon spent a lot of time in Rills while being fostered in Barrowtown. While there, he fell in love with my Aunt Barbrey, who loved him just as much in return. However, even after knowing this your grandfather arranged a betrothal between your uncle and your lady mother. This earned him my grandfather's ire."

"My Aunt Barbrey was then married to late Lord William Dustin, who was part of your father's company that went to the Tower of Joy to free another Stark which led to his death. Lord Dustin died before an heir could be conceived, leaving m aunt without a child of her own. Lord Stark failed to bring my good uncles bones from the Dorne, my aunt still hold a grudge against him."

"Lastly, my grandfather's own brother, Ser Mark Ryswell, was also slain in the short skirmish at the Tower of Joy. So, now grandfather blames Starks for all the ill-fate that had befallen on my family." Domeric explained to Robb. He was so stunned that his mouth was opening and closing but no sound came forth.

Even Eddard Stark, the quiet wolf was stumped after the revelation. He never thought that one of his own sworn houses felt this way. He had unknowingly made Bolton-Ryswell-Dustin block his enemy. The trio formed a powerful block and he was worried about how to integrate them in his own rule.

Domeric then turned to Lord Stark and addressed him, "The true problem is that out of four of the Lord Rickard's children two are dead, one is at the wall and you are married to a lady of south. At the moment House Stark holds no ties through marriage with any other house in North that is the main reason as to why your support is waning."

"Having blood ties to another Great House is all well and good but you cannot alienate your own lords. To tell you the truth, I honestly believe that House Stark has remained standing this long because of its strong ties with its sworn houses."

It seemed to strike a chord with the Stark lord. He took a long look at Domeric then glanced out of window, contemplating something or other. They discussed some more minor things before Domeric decided to bring a major subject that he had been staling since morning so that he could earn a bit of their trust before addressing the issue.

"The pact of Red Mountains that is public knowledge is not the complete pact." He told them out of blue but instantly grabbed their attention.

"What do you mean?" Lord Stark asked sternly.

"Some of the Vale clans will like to take permanent residence in the North." Domeric finally admitted.

"What! Why?" Robb asked, clearly surprised as evident by his tone.

"You have been informed of the brewing conflict in South only just now but I had been observing it for the last couple years. You know of it but I have seen it." He emphasized.

"I wanted to increase our chance of victory, so when the opportunity came I presented this idea to them. We already have mountain clans of our own, others may consider them savages but I see them as an asset that will increase our military power." Domeric logiacally explained

After some deliberation Eddard said, "I will allow that as long as they live in Bolton territory and swear their fealty to not just your house but to me as well." Lord Stark answered.

"There has been a question that I wanted to ask you." Lord Stark said and leaned back in his seat as he frowned in thought.

"Go ahead my lord." Domeric urged the Stark lord.

"Why did you want Robb to be here?" He asked.

Domeric here give a sad smile that was not entirely false and said, "Lord Stark, no offense to you but you were not supposed to rule the north, yet here you are. Lord Rickard in his ambitions forgot that he had more than one son and when he and your brother died prematurely, many secrets held by the Starks of old were lost."

"We may be young now but we won't be for long and if Robb does not learn these things now, there may come a time when you will not be around to teach him more. It is entirely possible that he will lose his life due to naivety or ignorance when you are not around to protect anymore."

Lord Stark immediately sobered up and nodded his head in understanding while Robb seemed to be in deep thought. Domeric thought, 'I can't say that I blame him, many of his beliefs were shattered today. It would do him good to learn about his own people, both the good and the bad.'

The next day was spent in the similar fashion as the last one. The people in the castle were gossiping and rumors were being spread around. With the help of Maester Luwin, a man that Lord Eddard seemed to trust over all others, plans were made in greater details.

The problem of funds was solved by restarting some of the old coal and iron mines that had been abandoned in winter. Domeric also assured Lord Stark that he would provide loan, if needed, but he doubted that it will be necessary once the revenue from all the towns that they were planning to establish started flowing in. They also decided to increase taxes by five percent for the next two years, after which the rate will be revised once again.

The harvest feast was not what one would have expected it to be. Instead of the false cheer and stifling political atmosphere that usually develops in south when so many nobles are brought together, here in North, all the lords and ladies were getting along famously.

Most of them were old friends from the days of rebellion or were related one way or another. Domeric even saw his father enjoying the feast and it was a known fact around Dreadfort that Roose Bolton never enjoyed any kind of feast.

It was in no small part thanks to Greatjon Umber. The man was loud and brash at the first glance. However you would not find a more compassionate soul once you get to know him. He often surprised people by his wisdom and above else, was fiercely loyal to Starks.

Greatjon definitely didn't like the wizard at first but, after a couple of jokes, wine and few laughs they were getting along quite well.

Smalljon Umber was his father's son in every way possible. The kid was already six feet tall and was still growing. He quickly became friends with Robb and Domeric during his stay in Winterfell. They often went to training yard together, where they will proceed to beat each other black and blue.

Young Umber was not the only one to join them though. Harrion and Torrhen Karstark along with Dacey Mormont became part of their close knitted group of friends before long. Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell, was another person that Domeric liked to spend his time with.

The boy's quiet but intelligent personality called out to the wizard. There was that hidden strength of character that Domeric easily recognized. The duo spent many nights outside, chatting till one of them was too exhausted to continue. Jon didn't talk much at first but in no time he started opening to Domeric.

Theon Greyjoy though, was another story. None aside from Robb was fond of him and barely tolerated his presence. They did it out of curtsy as he was so close to the Stark Heir and a member of Great House, doesn't matter if it was fucking Greyjoy.

He was boastful, arrogant, prideful, and above all treated others like shit, a perfect Ironborn if there ever was one. Iron-islanders were absolutely hated in North, especially in Bear islands. Dacey nearly chopped his bits off when he tried to feel her up in archery range.

Since they were children they were not allowed to sit during the harvest feast and spent most of the time fooling around the castle. Domeric though, spent his time reading through Winterfell's amazing library, he didn't know when he will get this kind of opportunity next so read up everything that he could get his hands on.

Sometimes, Sansa would join him and ask a multitude of questions. Someone let it slip to her that he was training to become a knight; the girl was very fascinated with anything to do with knights and princes. Well she was before he did something that he himself was unsure how to feel about.

The girl had rose-tinted impression of the world that she lived in. So, Domeric in his infinite wisdom decided to take pity on her and tried to set her straight on those beliefs. He still remembered how she had cried in the library after he had ruthlessly crashed and burned the fairy-tale world she used to live in around her.

* * *

 _Flashback…_

Domeric and Sansa were sitting in the library chatting animatedly, well Sansa was doing most of the chatting while Domeric was smiling slightly and nodding along at all the right places. All of a sudden Sansa frowned in concentration and asked a question that Domeric did not know how to answer without breaking her heart.

"Domeric all knights in the south are noble, right?" She looked with such intensity in her eyes that he dare not lie to her.

He looked in her eyes and said, "No Sansa, I am sorry to say but not all knights are noble and honorable, lords are even less. It does not matter if they are of North or of South, you will find corrupt people everywhere."

She got a stubborn glint in her beautiful blue eyes; 'Wait! _Beautiful_ where did it even came from,' he thought in panic while she said, "prove it."

Domeric thought about an appropriate example and then asked, "Do you remember Jorah Mormont of Bear islands." When he saw her nod he explained, "He was recently caught when he attempted to sell the ironborns that he had captured to slave traders. Your father personally stripped of all his titles, lands and money. He was a knight of great renown before he went and sullied his honor."

Sansa however did not budge, she glared and said, "He was a northern knight who was never trained as one, he did not even follow the seven. I am not satisfied."

Domeric racked his brain for another example to get her to shut up and leave him alone in peace. He had been reading a particularly good paragraph when she disturbed him.

"Well then I am sure you have heard of the Smiling Knight." Domeric said and received a flinch in return from her. Smiling Knight was one of the worst outlaws that Westeros had ever seen; he was also the most recent one.

Even this far up north, tales of his misdeeds are widespread. He was infamous for his cruelty and insanity. Domeric continued, "No one knew who he was or where did he come from. But, what everyone agreed on was that he was trained to be a knight."

This was legitimate response and even though her resolved crumbled she still said, "I-I don't believe it, he was never given a knighthood so he was not a knight. Besides, he could be just an exception."

Domeric had been getting increasingly frustrated over the days due to her attitude and decided that enough was enough. He gritted his teeth and ordered her, "Sit here and wait for me." He went and searched for a particularly heavy tome on recent world history.

He brought the book once he found it and read aloud, "After the death of crown prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, the forces of Westerlands led by Lord Tywin Lannister marched towards the capital. When the army reached the capital, King Aerys Targaryen II in his madness thought that they had come to aid him and ordered for the gates to be opened."

"Once inside the city, the Lannister host brutally sacked the capital, killing thousands of people including many women and children. It is a commonly known fact that when they reached Red Keep, the Princess Elia Martell was mercilessly raped and beaten repeatedly by Ser Gregor Clegane, a knight working for House Lannister before finally succumbing to her wounds."

"Prince Aegon Targaryen was killed by the same knight, when his head was cruelly bashed against the wall of the room while Princess Elia was still alive and was forced to watch her own son's death. Ser Amory Loch, another Lannister knight brutally killed Princess Rhaenys Targaryen by stabbing her again and again with a small knife."

"King Robert Baratheon's rule will forever be tainted by the horrendous act committed by his wife's family, House Lannister of Casterly Rock. Many have argued against the authenticity of the above account but it is largely taken as fact rather than rumor."

Domeric finally looked up from reading and found a pale and shaking Sansa. Her eyes were wide and swollen red from all the crying that she did. She swayed on her feet when she tried to stand too quickly.

Domeric immediately got up from his seat and reached out with a hand to steady her. She flinched as soon as he touched her but he didn't release her. She struggled for a moment but then when he hugged her, she finally broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably.

The wizard immediately felt guilty and all the anger and frustration left him at once. He held her close and ran his hand across her back to soothe her. 'Ugh…I shouldn't have snapped like that. Even after all these years I can't control my damn temper!' He scolded himself.

She remained in his embrace and eventually her sobs were reduced to occasional sniffles. He forced her to sit down then took a seat beside her. He hesitated for a second before holding her small hands in his much larger ones. He was never an expert in providing emotional support but after living this long he learned a thing or two.

So, he remained by her side for another half an hour and apologized for snapping. She didn't say a word just nodded her head with a lost look about her. That look more than anything made him regret the way he revealed the truth to her.

 _Flashback Ends_

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Although he was able to break her out of her naivety it came with a price. She had since then started avoiding him like a plague and both Lord Stark and Robb had taken notice of it.

So, when they inquired about it he was honor bound to tell them the truth. While Lord Stark had been angry, he had understood his reasons and the dilemma that Sansa had thrust him into. However, Robb had not taken it so well. He remained angry with him and distanced himself for the remainder of his time in the castle.

Domeric didn't know at the time, but the true reason she had been avoiding him was because when he had hugged her, she had accidently felt him up. The poor girl had immediately developed a small crush on the young Bolton. The wizard was a bit hurt at first when his new friend left him but he got over it quickly enough.

Finally, in order to get away from all those confusing feelings, he started spending more time with his father. Roose Bolton had been impressed by his heir's plans for the North and especially the Bolton lands. Hence, he spent all his free time grooming him. Domeric had nothing better to do with his time so spent it with his father.

After the harvest week was complete, he bid his farewells and traced his way back to Runestone. It took them a month to reach Runestone as they had to constantly fend off bandits in the Riverlands.

On the way back, Domeric visited both Lord Redfort and Lady Waynwood in their family castle. He wanted to maintain the goodwill that he had generated with them after the treaty. They too, were clearly happy to receive him.

As Runestone came into sight, the _man-who-conquered_ breathed a sigh of relief and exhaustion. He hoped that the coming couple of years would be less hectic but knew that the game waited for no one. If you want to win the game, you have to first survive it, and for survival, you got to work every single day. 'Ugh…I am getting too old for this,' were the last thoughts of our favorite wizard before Lord Royces' boisterous greeting reached his ears.

 **To be continued...**

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 **AN: Like it ? Hate it ? You can review here or can PM me on my profile.**

 **AN: There is another POLL! that I would love you guys to vote in.**


	13. Chapter 13: Private Army

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, not even its merchandises lol ;)**

 **Authors Note:**

1\. First of all, I am really SORRY for the late update. I wasn't sure if I should continue with the story and the lack of time certainly didn't help.

2\. Also, I was putting off posting chapters that I had already written as I felt that I need a beta.

3\. I would like to thank all the guys who are following this story or favored it.

4\. There is a new STORY by yours truly. Its just one chapter and I hope that you guys read it and give me honest reviews. I am going to work on it with my beta and re-post it soon but I wanted to see if people are still interested in reading that kind of thing.

 **BETA: _KBelle1._ I would like to give special thanks to Kelly for the amazing beta testing. I hope that there were fewer grammatical errors this time. **

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"this is my speech..." Normal speech

 _'these are my thoughts...' Characters thinking_

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 **Chapter-13: Private Army**

 _Present time: 295 AL…_

Domeric released a sigh and closed the report that he had been reading. It was a report that Liam had personally composed for him, containing information regarding military strength of each kingdom and even some of the free-cities. The statistics were not encouraging at all.

At the moment, the North was only capable of fielding some twenty-five thousand soldiers at once, but if given time, could raise an army of forty-five thousand. The North's capacity had certainly increased because of the renovation of many castles, keeps, and towns. A long summer had also played an important part. The new port town being built on Bolton land also played a large part in the growing economy of the coldest kingdom.

However, it still would not be enough when the war came, and Domeric was sure that it would come. Their fleet consisted of some thirty odd ships that were further divided between various houses and were uncoordinated. It would not have been so bad if the North was not forced to protect such long shore lines, both in the west and the east.

Domeric thought _, 'Riverrun can deploy forty-five thousand soldiers at most, but most of the time they are unable to mobilize their numbers before war is upon them. Some of the riverlords, like House Frey, are not even loyal to House Tully. So, it is one of the weakest states militarily, even if the area is economically prosperous. Only House Mallister of Seaguard has any kind of strength at the sea, which is limited to some thirty or so warships after the Greyjoy Rebellion.'_

Next on his report were the Westerlands. House Lannister was known to be capable of gathering a host of thirty-five thousands at first call. A second host of fifteen thousand and a third of ten thousand soldiers would certainly create a problem for him if given enough time to be raised. On top of that, the Lannister army had better weapons and armors than any other region.

House Lannister was rich and if need be, could hire plenty of sell-swords. Their fleet consisted of some sixty large warships and several smaller ones, nothing to brag about, but undoubtedly enough to launch a good defense and patrol operations. Other costal houses of the Westerlands also had their own small fleets which brought another twenty or so ships to the fleet, quite a dangerous opponent indeed.

' _Houses in the Crownlands can gather anything from fifteen to twenty thousand soldiers, but their loyalties are divided. One half supports Stannis Baratheon and the other half supports House Lannister, effectively neutralize each other due to infighting. Though, the houses that have any kind of warships are loyal to Stannis, such as House Velaryon of Driftmark_.' He stood up from where he was seated and unceremoniously plopped himself down on the bed.

' _Though, I won't count them out just yet. You never know when someone dies and loyalties change. It has happened in the past and is bound to happen in the future._ '

Dragonstone was the base of the royal fleet, which contained some hundred warships. The fleet was directly under the crown however, it was no secret that the majority of captains owed their allegiance to Stannis Baratheon. Even though Dragonstone could barely field some two thousand swords on land, its proximity with Essos ensured that one could hire plenty of sell-swords and mercenaries.

' _I think that the Stormland is the most unstable region of Westeros in terms of military might right now. The area can field a host of soldiers numbering anything from twenty thousand to forty thousand. The region constantly faces bad weather and skirmishes with Dorne in Dornish Marshes._ '

' _It is one of the reasons for their unpredictable numbers. The stormlords of Dornish Marshes will never bring their full might with them, at least as long as there is a possibility of a Dornish attack from the rear. They don't have an organized fleet, but they do own some sixty warships, mostly from House Tarth, when the need truly arises._ ' He sighed tiredly, wanting nothing more than some sleep after a long day but continued to go over the details for other regions.

He finally reached the region that had him most worried, the Reach. It was an area of wide plains and fertile soil, with many rivers flowing through it. Hence, it was quite densely populated and was second only to the North in size. House Tyrell could call some seventy thousand men to arms in just a couple of weeks and since the terrain was even, they gathered rather quickly.

The Redywne Fleet consisted of around two-hundred warships. Houses like Hightower, Tarly and Redywne were very powerful in their own right but together with Randyll Tarly leading them, they were neigh unbeatable. Their loyalty to House Tyrell was unquestionable due to all the blood ties that bound them all together. A second host of twenty thousand is a possibility that Domeric was not willing to overlook even though it takes a whole month for the new numbers to join, leaving many castle garrisons weak.

The Iron Islands could sail with perhaps some twenty-thousand men. Well, that was the figure that the rest of the world believed, but Domeric knew their true strength. Balon Greyjoy had the ability to gather a force of thirty-thousand men, many of whom were the pirates that the Iron born befriended over the years. The pirate lords of the Basilisk Isles were just some of many. Their main power lay in the sea, and they could easily muster five hundred longships. They were the pest that he believed, needed to be dealt with, permanently.

The forces of the Vale comprised of strong and experienced men from the time of the Rebellion. They currently numbered around forty-five thousand. At the surface, all houses of the Vale were loyal to House Arryn, but if one was to look deeper, they would reach the conclusion that everyone was serving their own agenda.

' _Many are not satisfied with the current ruling as Lord Arryn is usually away from the Eyrie. Lysa Arryn, if the rumors are to be believed, is so paranoid that it borderlines madness. Robin Arryn, the young heir is a sickly-looking child who is cuddled too much and would be a very weak lord if he survived. God help the Vale, because House Arryn is certainly doomed. Not much in the name of a fleet either, some fifty or so warships in Gulltown and another thirty under houses Royce, Linderly and Coldwater._ House Martell of Dorne could marshal an army of twenty thousand strong. They were capable of raising a second host of twenty thousand or so if provided time or given an early warning. The army was quite deadly and experienced with Oberyn Martell at its command.

The Red Viper could also hire some sell-sword companies, like the Second-Sons and Viper, his own company, which further boosted their numbers by another five thousand. They didn't have any major fleet besides some twenty or so warships. Though, a large number of trade ships that regularly traded with Essos could easily be converted in warships if the situation called for it.

So the next morning, Domeric called Liam and Billy in his room for a brainstorming session. Billy suggested that purchasing an army of unsullied would solve most of their problems. However, both Liam and Domeric were uncomfortable at the prospect of owning someone, but it did give Domeric an idea.

Basically, the idea was to capture, steal or even outright buy some five thousand or so slaves from the free-cities in one year's time. They were to then to be carefully smuggled to an off-shore facility. Once there, they would be freed and allowed to go to their previous lives, if they had one left, or they would be shipped off to the new port on Last River if they wanted to start anew.

The rest, who wished to fight and work for him would be trained at the facility by undergoing a carefully planned course by Domeric himself. His goal was to form a virtually unbeatable force of at least three thousand soldiers under the banner of House Peverell before the war erupted in the Seven Kingdoms.

Once the idea took hold in Domeric's mind, it became an obsession, an obsession that he wanted to fulfill at any cost. As the first step in his personal long term mission, he started looking for a place where he could set up his base. Westeros was out; he didn't want to reveal them before they were needed. The force was going to be the ace up his sleeve. That left Essos, which stretched far and wide, providing him plenty options to choose from.

He wanted a place that was close to Westeros, particularly close to the Riverlands. It was the place that was going to be most severely affected in all likelihood.

The nearest he could set up the camp would be further south along the Braavosian coastlands, at the foot of the Andalos mountains. It was quite close to Runestone, only two hours of flying and you are in a whole new continent. He was sure that he could set up enough wards that would keep anyone that was non-magical out, but at the same time, it would also mean that any magical person who ventured too close to the place, would be able to sense the magic used and find it out with little difficulty.

That was a risk that he was not willing to take, could not take. To that end, he determined that a purchase of two hundred unsullied to guard the place until his troops were ready would be required. He mirror-called Quintus to explain his plan, and ordered the purchase of two hundred unsullied discreetly under a false name.

He then did the same with Markov, but had him raise a temporary fleet of twenty ships for carrying the slaves around. The crews were loyal to him due to the chains that were worn by them, but still they were kept in the dark about the package that they were transporting. Some troublemakers found out, but were quickly obliviated.

Only one ship was allowed to transfer the slaves to the camp, while the others only unloaded them on that ship. He was just too cautious not to do that as there was a very real possibility that someone would spill his secrets once they left his temporary fleet or accidentally lost the locket.

They were further instructed to attack and sack any slave ships that came their way and capture the slaves onboard. In the meantime, Quintus brought some of the slaves from Volantis that were loyal to him but wanted a better life for themselves, and sent them to the port town. Domeric also asked Syrio to get him some slaves from the three sisters, Lys, Myr and Tyrosh. The Braavosi was very successful, and stole more than six hundred slaves from all three cities combined.

Domeric himself led a raid on Slaver's Bay. While Astapor and Mereen were too well protected for him to get any substantial numbers, the same could not be said about Yunkai where he was most successful. They attacked in the night and successfully smuggled more than a thousand slaves from Yunkai. What no one knew was the secret help that his men received from the Windblown. The sell-sword company was employed by Yunkai; a bit of gold was all it took for him to get some new allies.

He had to use his full fleet in the mission, the whole thing was very risky but he felt that it was all worth it in the end. Slaver's Bay was abuzz with rumors and gossip for weeks after the raid and the masters were offering ridiculous prices for any information on him or his associates. In three month's time, some six thousand slaves were transferred to the off-shore facility that he simply started calling The Camp.

Domeric and Liam arrived at the place along with Syrio and Billy. The party decided to tour the area that Liam had personally supervised the construction of. Domeric was in his Harry Potter disguise or what Harry Potter had looked in his early thirties.

The main facility was a wooden structure that was designed as an academy but looked more like a redoubt due to all the towers and fortified walls. It had a great hall which was used for meals and ceremonies, capable of feeding a thousand soldiers in one sitting. Then there was the huge kitchen, rooms for classes where subjects like basic writing, reading and mathematics would be taught.

There was a small library for those who wished to further pursue a subject, most of the books were on battle strategies and world history but there were plenty of options to choose from for other less known subject as well. There were quarters for the soldiers to sleep in, along with some bathrooms which the wizard personally installed after he got fed up with using chamber pots.

There was also a separate facility for unsullied who did all the guard and patrol duties around the camp. However, they shared the dining hall with the other students.

Then there was the huge training ground. It had an enormous archery range that could be used by five hundred people simultaneously. The tilting arena was the same, and so were the rings for physical combat. There was a lot of free area around so that if more buildings were needed they could be constructed.

Civilians had a separate area to themselves. They could either live in a tent or could furnish a house from the timber that was available in the stores for free. The armory was well stocked with a team of ten blacksmiths constantly forging new equipments and repairing the old ones. The stables were managed by the help of nearly hundred people. It was difficult enough to look after thousand horses, looking after ten thousand war-horses at that was a task that only few could complete.

The group completed its inspection of the place, with the wizard made some notes in his pocket diary regarding some things that were needed to be added, fixed or even changed. He asked Liam to gather all the slaves outside the facility walls.

There was a lot of muttering and protest amongst the slaves when they were dragged out of their temporary homes. They still had their shackles and upon seeing his party, many of them thought that he was their new master and were looking at him with silent resignation and barely visible contempt. Domeric clapped loudly and a hush fell over the crowd.

"You all must be wondering where you are and what we want from you." The only answer that he received was silence along with rare few nods.

"If you are thinking that I am your new master, or your new captor, you couldn't be more wrong as I am neither," he told them in common tongue with Quintus repeating after him in Low Valyrian. Domeric looked over the people and most of the faces showed confusion, anxiety and fear.

"I am a Westerosi, for us, slavery is abhorrent. In the seven kingdoms, people look upon slaves with pity," Domeric paused for dramatics while seeing that most of the people were a bit angry now. "But I know that you don't need their pity."

"What you need is understanding and support from people, understanding of the pain that you suffered from and support to rise above it. Believe me when I say that I do understand your pain, your hate, your fear, your anger and your helplessness. I myself stood once where you are now. I was also a slave, a slave since I was fifteen months old." Domeric took a deep breath so that he could calm himself down as he was getting a bit fired up. He began pacing in front of the crowd, keeping the undivided attention of everyone present.

"I was fifteen months old when both of my parents died fighting, trying to protect their homeland from a tyrant. I was sent to my mother's sister to be raised. My relatives, especially my dear Aunt…" Harry spat out the last word with such venom that many people recoiled back in shock, "…hated me. My parents were proven warriors and were quite rich and respected in their society because of it."

"My aunt was jealous of her sister; my mother was more beautiful than her, more skilled and intelligent than her. Soon that jealousy turned into anger, and then hate when my aunt noticed that my mother was getting more attention from my grandparents."

"Unfortunately for me, I inherited her hate. Similarly, my good uncle was jealous of my father. For fifteen years I lived as their slave, their dog, their servant. I cooked their meals, cleaned their house, washed their clothes and did every single chore that I could since I was five. Hell! I didn't even know my name till I was seven. They used to call me _freak_ so often that I thought that it was my name." He shook his head to clear it a bit, but knew it wasn't working as he could feel himself getting angrier by the second.

"I only wanted to be accepted, I was a child for god's sake, was I wrong in asking so little. I did everything happily, in the hope that someday they would finally accept me, care for me and maybe, just maybe…love me. But what did I get in return, they hurt me, abused me, less physically more emotionally, but I think a blow to heart is worse than any whipping."

"They knew I was smart like my parents, so they stunted my growth. To this day I hate them with everything I am because… they made me their fucking SLAVE!" As soon as Domeric roared out the last part, lightning struck near the area. Harry had unconsciously released so much magic during his tirade that the storm clouds had gathered near the area sensing the rage of thunderbird in him. His whole body was shaking with fury and heavy rain started, however no one dared move from their place.

"But a day came when I finally realized the futility of my attempts. I vowed then to do everything in my power to get out of that place. One day when the time came and an opportunity presented itself, I succeeded. But by then I had no purpose left in my life. To keep myself going, I found a new purpose to follow. That day I decided to help people like myself." He announced and walked towards a young boy. A sword strike later, the shackles that bound him, fell down on the ground. The whip that he had with him, that made him the master of the Unsullied was also burned to ashes.

Following his actions he noticed that there were mixed feelings around, some were clearly happy to be free while others were simply lost. One of the braver former-slaves yelled out, "While we are thankful that you freed us, most of us have nothing to do and nowhere to go." Many of the former-slaves voiced their agreement.

Domeric raised his hand and the crowd immediately quieted down. "You don't have to worry about that my friend. I was prepared for it. You have three options in front of you. If you have somewhere to go, I will give you some gold and one of my ships will leave you in Gulltown, from where you can go wherever you wish."

"Second option is…that you can live here in this facility but you will have to join my army. Now, not everyone will be fighting, but you will have to serve under me one way or another. You can work as a blacksmith, a builder, a healer, a stable boy, a cook or any other job really, provided that you do have some skills in it. However, only a limited number of people can stay here."

"Third option is, if you want to start anew I will send you to a new port town that is being built by a dear friend of mine. There will be many opportunities for you to explore, also no one will care if you are former-slaves or not. You have until the next day to think on this."

After which the crowd broke up in smaller groups, who were busy discussing their options amongst themselves. Harry was moving about doing his best to answer the questions that were being put forth. From what he was able to predict, he would say that some thirty-eight hundred out of sixty-two hundred former-slaves were planning to stay.

In the meantime he was also passively scanning minds of people around him to catch anyone who had the intention of selling the information regarding his camp. He knew that not every one of them out there was a slave from birth. There was a chance that one of them could be an information trafficker. He was proven correct by the time night fell, there was one who was examining the facilities with far too interest for him to not get suspicious.

Harry crept behind him and said in a menacing voice, "Don't turn around or this blade will go through your heart." The man immediately stiffened.

"Wh-what is th-the meaning of t-this good ser?" He stuttered out nervously.

' _Rarely anyone in Essos uses the word ser, there is a good chance that the worm is from Westeros', Harry thought._

Harry growled, "Tell me, to whom were you going to sell this information?"

The man tried to kick his leg back but Harry blocked it with his own leg and pierced his skin a bit with the dagger to show how serious he was. The man cried out in pain, but thankfully the area was rather secluded so no one heard him.

"I am out of courtesies, so if you don't want to be just another dead man, start spilling the truth, and only truth, you know the consequences otherwise," Harry told him through gritted teeth. He was getting frustrated and the man was just asking for it.

"O-Okay…okay I will tell you. His name is Petyr Baelish; he offers the best price in all of Westeros, even the infamous 'Queen of Thorns' and Tywin Lannister have nothing on him. He pays like three times more than the others," he shouted in desperation.

"What about Varys?" He asked curiously.

"The eunuch doesn't rely on people like me; he stubbornly uses his own network and seldom trusts other sources of information."

"Thank you," replied Harry sincerely before entering his blade into the man's heart.

The next morning, once again a meeting was called after the meal. Harry stood over a slightly raised platform this time which was constructed the night before.

"I hope that all of you have made your decision. There are three counters here related to the three choices that I discussed yesterday. You are to line up in front of the counters and register yourself there. If you are permanently living here, you will be provided with lodgings and work befitting your skills. If you want to leave for Gulltown you will be provided with two gold dragons per person. If you want to join the new trade port, you will be sent there and you will be given work by my cousin is going to be the new lord of the port once it is sanctioned by the King of the Westeros. So please come forward one by one," Domeric announced and beckoned the people.

The rest of the day was spent preventing brawls and helping people with registration. As expected, some thirty-eight hundred people decided to stay at The Camp. Though out of them only 3,453 would be able to join the military. Some two thousand were going to the new port, mostly families, while the rest were going to make their own way in the world.

So, for the rest of the year Domeric continued to commutate between The Camp and Runestone. He decided to form the army in proper military ranks. To that end, he used a bastardized version of the ranking system used by the British Army.

He trained a cavalry of one thousand personnel which was equally divided into heavy cavalry and light cavalry. The infantry consisted of 500 light infantry and 1,000 heavy infantry. The difference between the two types was mostly based on armor. However, it also affected their battle formations and tactics.

Both the cavalry and infantry had the same ranking system. The lowest ranked soldiers were called _cadets_. The smallest unit of either forces consisted of fifty privates who were then led by a _second lieutenant_ and _a lieutenant_. Two such units were under a _captain_. Five such captains were than commanded by a _major_. The cavalry _colonel_ had two such majors working for him while the infantry _colonel_ had three.

The archers were much less systematized. There were a hundred crossbowmen, another two hundred longbow men, and the last two hundred used heavily customized hunting bows. The smallest unit was that of hundred archers commanded by a captain, the five captains in turn reported to a colonel. He himself was the General of his forces, while there were many ranks missing from the original British system, he didn't have enough men and specialized units to create those ranks. Maybe in time he would be able use the complete ranking system.

If one was to compare it to the system in Westeros, a normal cadet would be equal to an average knight while lieutenants, second lieutenants and corporals were certainly above average. Captains were on the same level as the best landed knights like SerRodrik Cassel of Winterfell. His five majors and three colonels could match the best fighters like Ser Jaime Lannister or Ser Sandor "Hound" Clegane in a one on one bout on their best day but they certainly were not on that level, yet.

He was confident that by the time war came upon them, his forces would be the best and the most feared ones amongst those present on the field.

He himself trained hard with the recruits as Domeric Bolton, opposed to Harry Potter, so that they wouldn't question his command in the middle of a battle, you can just imagine the kind of disaster it would cause. The trainees were showing a lot of promise and he was extremely happy knowing that his idea has been a success.

There were another two hundred or so that would be kept in a support and reserve department so that they could fill up the gaps in ranks that would form due to deaths and injuries. These numbers would be used in all three forces in order to make up for the lost numbers, keeping it in mind they were trained in everything but were not expected to achieve mastery in anything.

Out of these two hundred, the dimensionally-travelled wizard decided to create a group of ten that showed promise with every weapon. He personally trained them in stealth and assassinations, and named them _Umbra,_ the Latin word for Shadows.

Days went on like that and time flew faster than a raging river, but by the end of the year, Domeric had a force of thirty-five hundred waiting for his call. Although his men were willing to bath themselves in blood in his name, he knew that they needed more training and experience, because when death comes, it spares none.

 ** _To be continued..._**

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 **Thanks for reading and I hope that you liked it. Reviews, as always, are very much appreciated.**


	14. Chapter 14: Tourney and Knighthood

**Disclaimer** **\- I do not own Harry Potter, Game of Thrones or A song of Ice and Fire.**

 **NOTE: This chapter hasn't been beta-tested so there is a very real possibility that it will contain be many mistakes on my part.**

 **NOTE: I apologize for late update. Its my first year in the college and it took me some time getting used to my new environment.**

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 **Chapter-14: Tourney and Knighthood**

 _Present time: 296 AL…_

Domeric groaned as light filtered through the curtains and assaulted his sleep-addled mind. He rolled over and attempted to return to the warm embrace of sleep. However, it was all for naught because at that very moment someone knocked on the door.

A loud voice reached his ear, "…has come from King's Landing. A tourney for squires is being held there by the king."

'Looks like no rest for the wicked,' thought Domeric, finally coming to consciousness.

"I…yawn…will be right outside in ten minutes at the breakfast table uncle." He called out loudly and received an affirmative in return.

He groaned once again in exhaustion but decided to get ready quickly or else Lord Royce would once again come knocking on his door and this time, he won't be amused.

Domeric thought while taking a bath, 'Damn, my whole body is aching. I should have trained less in tilting yard'.

He looked in the mirror while dressing up and saw a young man of fifteen staring back at him. The famous wizard had grown considerably over these past two years. He now stands at a respectable height of 5'10". His height had been a sore point for him in his previous life as nutrition potions can only do so much but here he had grown to his full potential.

His hairs were a bit long and reached his collarbone. He had lost all the baby fat and had it replaced with steel strong muscles. All in all Domeric Bolton was the perfect heir for any noble house; something that he was going to abuse the hell out of.

Once ready for the day wearing his normal attire of thin navy blue tunic, black pants and brown leather boots, he hid his dagger in the sole of his right shoe and quickly moved towards the great hall for breakfast. Once seated in his chair, he began eating at a leisurely pace; he was feeling particularly lazy that day.

He turned towards Lord Royce and asked "So, what is the occasion for the tourney uncle?"

Lord Royce smiled at his surrogate nephew and replied, "Well Domeric, the tourney is being organized to celebrate the Crown Prince Joffrey's fourteenth name-day."

"I assumed as much." Domeric continued eating, not even fazed. The king's habit of organizing tourney for every little occasion was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms though the Crown Prince's name-day could be considered a special occasion. If someone was to ask him, he will ask in turn how the prince's name-day is special, after all it comes every year.

"How much time do I have left in order to prepare?" It has already been decided for quite some time now that Domeric would only participate in the tourney organized by king. A knighthood given by the king holds a lot more value and prestige than any other. News reach far and wide when someone impresses the whole royal court.

"Well the tourney is in a moon's time. I don't think that it will take more than ten days for you to travel from Runestone to King's Landing via Gulltown. But you should commission a light armor for yourself as well as some weapons." Lord Royce replied back thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, I will see the smith after breakfast then. In the meantime, tell me if I am going alone or," asked Domeric distractedly.

"Andar and I will be coming with you as there are also a jousting and an archery competition for knights other than the melee competition for the squires that you are participating in. It has been many years since I last participated in a tourney and I feel Andar is more than ready to earn some glory of his own." Lord Royce told Domeric.

"Well, I best get prepared then." Domeric announced and after receiving a nod from Yohn strode purposefully towards the castle blacksmith.

Domeric reached the forges, swiftly entered and found Jules, the castle blacksmith, hard at work on a sword. He waited for Jules to finish his work and busied himself with gathering some tools in the meantime. He had something very specific in mind and wanted to get started on it in a day or two. Once the sound of hammer stopped, Domeric looked up only to find that Jules was finished with his work.

Domeric said cheerfully knowing full well how much it irritated the blacksmith, "Hey Jules, I got some work for you."

Jules gruffly said without even looking up from the sword, "What do you want lad?"

Domeric shot him a grin and said, "I want two dozen throwing knives. You already have their size and design so it shouldn't take you long. I also find myself in need of a couple of hunting knives. I will need your forge for it, I am going to forge and mold them on my own."

Jules frantically shook his head and yelled out, "NO, absolutely not! I am not giving you my forge. The last time I allowed you to use it, you nearly burned the whole place down, so, forget about it."

Domeric then smiled deviously and mocked, "Oh, but you are, or I am going to tell Craig that you have been sleeping with his mother."

Jules immediately paled. He thought for a second before sighing in defeat. "Alright you bastard, you can use the forge tomorrow."

Domeric then did the best impression of Dumbledore and said, "Don't worry my dear blacksmith, Craig would not harm you, you have my word." Jules snorted at his poor attempt at humor and shooed him out. With nothing better left to do, he trained for the rest of the day and meditated in the night.

The next day he woke up early, quickly performed his morning ritual and training, then promptly left for the forge where set down to work for the rest of the day.

He had decided to forge the hunting knives a long time ago but never got the time to do it. They were of course going to be magically forged which was one of the reasons he was doing it alone. He was planning to use magical fire which will give him much purer and durable steel. The hunting knives were weapons best suited for stabbing and blocking, and his weapons were no different.

The hilt was covered with a navy blue colored cloth and was six-inches long for the best possible grip. The blade on the other hand was truly a thing of beauty; it was around ten inches long, straight double-edged and storm grey in color. There were runes on it in silver that glowed slightly when magic was used around it, like an alert wart that didn't use up his magic.

Unlike the runes on other blades, these runes were Egyptian and Norse rather than Celtic or Greek. Once the runes were completely charged, the blades would become as sharp and durable as Valyrian Steel but currently he had only charged them partially. There was no need to draw unnecessary attention. He decided against personally crafting a new armor. He would just ask the blacksmith at The Camp to make a customized light armor for him.

He decided to practice his sword play for the next two weeks as the melee competition in King's landing won't be easy. He had heard from his sources that Loras Tyrell of Highgarden, who was squiring under Lord Renly Baratheon, would also be participating in the tournament. He was said to have skills and charm of a young Jaime Lannister, but it didn't really matter to the wizard.

Domeric instead thought, 'Bloody Tyrell, it will be a tough match but I am going to destroy him if we come face to face. Besides, let's not forget what father _dearest_ would do if he found out that I was unable to defeat the pretty boy'. Harry would not have gone down that road in his past life but this was a different world and he was no longer just Harry, he was more than that now, he was Domeric Bolton and he will make a statement against his enemy.

Finally the day arrived when their party left for Gulltown. They were currently atop their horses riding at a moderate pace for the port. Their party currently consisted of five Bolton and twenty Royce men. Many of whom were going to participate in various other competitions themselves.

"So Domeric, are you ready my boy?" Lord Royce jovially asked though he already knew the answer as he himself had trained the lad and was impressed by the raw talent that Domeric had.

"I am as ready as I ever will be." Domeric said with a nervous laugh despite himself.

"You will do just fine Dom, there are not many your age who can keep up with father. By the time you become a man grown, you will be one of the best fighters in whole world. You are currently better than most knights and you will only continue to grow so cheer up and stop needlessly worrying about it." Andar advised with a reassuring smile which earned him a grateful smile in return.

"Andar says wise words Domeric. Keep some confident in yourself lad, and you will be unstoppable in the yard." Lord Royce added and Domeric nodded, sitting a bit straighter in his saddle.

"So, what are you going to compete in?" Andar asked, while curiously looking towards his father.

"Jousting, I am better at melee but there is no melee competition for veteran warriors and I am just average in archery." Lord Royce explained while looking at his son out of the corner of his eyes. He gave his son an expectant look prompting him to answer.

"I will be participating in both jousting and archery. I want to see where I stand against the best of the Westeros." Andar explained to his father who nodded his head in approval.

The rest of the ride to Gulltown was spent in similar discussion and sharing hunting stories. They were quick to aboard their vessel as Lord Royce was not a fan of House Grafton after their previous lord supported Targaryens instead of following their liege lord. After talking with the captain, Domeric discovered that the winds were not as favorable as he would have liked.

So, using his control over winds and water, he managed to decrease the resistance that the ship was experiencing. It wasn't flashy or particularly powerful trick though it got the job done, too well if the suspicious glances that the captain was shooting around the ship for the next few days was anything to go by.

A week later it was declared that they would be reaching King's Landing in another four hours. Domeric feeling that he still had some time to mess around climbed atop the highest mast, taking observation of the traffic flowing in the Blackwater Bay. The port of King's Landing was visible from his position. He could easily make out hundreds of trade ships and even occasional warships from Royal Fleet. The salty but fresh sea air slowly started to wan out. Just as they reached the port, it was replaced by a pungent odor of fish, blood and shit.

In short, the place stunk something fierce. The docks were dry and tidy but still far from satisfactory. Domeric quickly moved out of the ship, following quietly behind Lord Royce and Ser Andar. Their party mounted horses that were unloaded from the vessel and went towards their destination, passing through busy streets of the city. The place looked and smelled more akin to a dumping ground rather than the capital of the Seven Kingdoms.

Domeric, Ser Andar and Lord Royce, all of a sudden found themselves thanking whoever invented the bubblehead charm. The stench became more and more bearable as they neared the Red Keep though it still lingered in the air.

The party rented some rooms at a luxurious inn near the Red Keep. The structure made by the Targaryen's remained standing firm and strong, a symbol of their power that managed to survive the war, even when they were no longer in Westeros. It was without any doubt beautiful and massive, but Domeric had seen far more majestic structures in his previous life to be truly amazed by the keep.

The thing had nothing over Hogwarts, or even castle Windsor for that matter, but it was definitely glorious by Westerosi standards. When he confirmed that they still had two days before the tourney commenced, he decided to further his influence and met with many young heirs and Lords that had gathered from all over the Seven Kingdoms, especially river lords.

Having Lord Royce vouch for him made it easier to mingle with other lords since the name Royce carried a lot of weight in the realm, especially after the rebellion, it was known fact that Yohn Royce was good friends with the king and the warden of the North. Though there were many who still showed their fear, unease and sometimes even disgust for him in his presence. It was not as easy to be a Bolton as some believed.

The next day he woke up early, even before dawn. The sky was still dark outside but the city was far from silent. Once ready, he silently crept out of the inn. He sensed for any other presences besides him around. After being satisfied that no one was following him, he purposefully strode towards Flea Bottom with the hood of his cloak keeping his face in shadows. He weaved some mild notice-me-not charms around himself but continued otherwise.

Suddenly another figure came out of the shadows and beckoned Domeric towards an abandoned alleyway. It was a man wearing a black cloak, not unlike his own cloak, with the hood covering his face. The figure turned around and gave a deep bow before greeting, "Lord Bolton, good morrow to you my lord. I hope your journey was safe and peaceful."

"Good morning and yes, it was, in no small part thanks to the efficient working of the crew. We made good time to the capital." Domeric smiled and walked towards the hooded figure.

"I hope that the crew was trustworthy and will be making a fine addition to your hidden fleet my lord." The man said.

"You shall be correct in your assumption though, I want them to be screened once more, much discreetly this time around. I want some of our more trustworthy members on the ship, add the ship to our fleet and, repair and modify it once our spy gives approval." Domeric told him and the figure nodded in understanding.

"Now let us move onto the real reason of this meeting," Domeric declared before moving towards a small door hidden in the shadows, and knocked three times on it. The door was quickly opened by another man; this one was an old fellow in his late fifties. He bowed in greeting when the two cloaked figures flashed their necklaces to him and quickly moved out of the way.

Domeric followed the other cloaked figure to a moderate sized private room on first floor. After a short observation around, he found it to be tastefully decorated, nothing too fancy but enough to leave an impression. The room was painted in light blue color with shades of gold here and there. There was not much in the way of furniture apart a large cabinet, a table, a chair behind the table and a couple of other chairs in front of it. A sofa in one of the corners and a rolled up cot next to it were the only other additions.

The curtains were pulled over the windows, keeping the activities happening in the room, hidden from rest of the world. The figure gestured for Domeric to take the main chair while he himself took one of the other chairs.

The green-eyed wizard removed his hood after securing the room to the best of his abilities. He was deep in thought regarding the plan that they had concocted after hours of analyzing and idle pondering. It was something that involved more risk than anything that he had undertaken in this world so far, but also the one that he was honor-bound to fulfill. He rubbed his chin, contemplating the course of action that he was going to take and the outrage that he should expect. He finally snapped out of his pondering when the other man cleared his throat.

Domeric smiled in amusement and said, "Impatient, aren't we, not that I can blame you my friend. But I digress; I have a rough sketch of how we are going to complete our task while bringing minimum possible attention to ourselves."

The second figure perked instantly and sat up a bit straighter. The man opened his mouth and said, "What have you planned, if you don't mind me asking, my lord."

Domeric immediately turned serious and said, "We will need to capture at least one of the bigger birds from mockingbird's flock. We need to be careful about whom we kidnap; it won't help us in anyway if we end up interrogating someone who doesn't have any relevant information on the matter."

"I see where you are going with it my lord. I will begin tracking down one of the higher ups who will know where our target is located. Then, by your leave Lord Bolton," the cloaked figure said. The man stood up, bowed and swiftly walked towards the door.

However he was interrupted by Domeric's voice, "Don't fret my friend. We will find her. I gave you my word and I intend to follow through it for you…Liam." Liam said nothing just looked at his lord, nodded his head in acceptance and gently closed the door behind him once he had left the room.

For the remaining days, Domeric spent most of his time in company of Lord Royce and some other vale and river lords. He also helped Andar with his jousting training as even though Andar was very good with a lance he was still way below Domeric due to the natural skill that the latter possessed.

He was more interested in archery anyway and Domeric truly felt that he had fair chance of winning the archery competition. They went back and forth at the tilt yard and drew quite a crowd of young squires and knights. Seeing his skills many thought that he was a knight who was training his fellow knight. It was not until he removed his visor that people discovered that he was Lord Royce's squire.

The day of tourney finally arrived and the weather took an unexpected turn. Instead of the bright and sunny that many had thought it would be, the day was overcast. Grey clouds blanketed the sky above King's landing, news came that a storm had hit the Blackwater Bay the previous day, and the weather was expected to only worsen. The air was moist and the tourney ground damp.

Domeric stood with other squires in his light armor, made out of boiled leather with metal protection at important joints and organs like heart, kidneys, ribs and groin. He donned a simple cowl to complete his attire. The only weapon that he was allowed to use was the blunted tourney sword that he had commissioned in Runestone. It was a simple one and a half-handed sword.

He was carrying a dagger hidden in the sleeve of his tunic in case one of the competitors went wild, he was not going to fight without ensuring his survival first; rules be damned. Looking around, he mentally counted some eighty odd squires participating in the competition. They widely varied in age; there were squires as young as thirteen name-days old and then those, who were in their late thirties. The competition will be tough but Domeric was confident that he will be able to defeat most, if not all of them.

He looked towards the pavilion and could make out the fat shit that was Robert Baratheon with little difficulty. He heard many things about him and came to the conclusion that the man was an overinflated balloon with no sense of propriety and common curtsy. Even from this far he could make out the form of a maid that he was groping with mad abundance. He was not one to form opinion based on rumors and gossips, but hearing rumors is one thing but hearing accounts of his spies stationed in the palace is quite another.

The next to come under his observation was the crown prince. Joffrey Baratheon he was named, but looked more Lannister than a Baratheon, what with his perpetual sneer and golden hairs. He watched in dark humor as he tried to grope another maid to gain approval from his father, only to have his hand slapped away by his mother who was glaring murderously at his father. What a lovely family.

The sound of a horn being blown sounded in distance and all the aspiring knights charged towards the field. The sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air. The crowd's cheering soon drowned the sounds of struggle in the yard.

Domeric had run as soon as he had heard the horn, he saw a boy in his late teens quickly approaching him. He relaxed his mind and tensed his body in preparation for the upcoming fight. As soon as his opponent reached him, Domeric slashed his sword diagonally but was blocked. His opponent tried to overpower him, clearly thinking that Domeric, being younger, would lose the power struggle. But soon, he realized his folly when Domeric dropped the sword from his hands and decked him hard across the temple with right hand, knocking him out cold in an instant.

Domeric quickly picked up his sword and just in time too, an overhead strike from another foe would have seriously injured him had he not blocked it. This continued for some time, with him fighting and defeating his enemies, sometime even being double-teamed by the competing squires. The crowd was soon cheering for him.

In the end, only five participants were left in the field, one of them was Loras Tyrell. Domeric was just contemplating upon choosing his opponent when he was forced to dodge right and to perform a backward flip immediately after. Noticing that he was once again being double-teamed by a man in his late-thirties and another in his mid-twenties, he gritted his teeth and decided to stop holding back.

They fought well but against him but were already exhausted from their previous fights. Domeric made quick work of them with his excellent form and superior stamina. Both surrendered quickly once their weapons were knocked out of their reach. By then a light downpour had started and was the spectators were being drenched in the stands though no one moved to head out. The ground was slowly becoming steadily turning muddy yet it didn't dampen the spirits of those fighting in the yard.

Domeric looked towards the other end of the field and noticed that Loras had also won his fight which admittedly, was quite short. The young Tyrell looked around and finally noticed him, clad in light armor with Bolton coat-of-arms on his chest. His lips curled up in an ugly sneer as soon as their eyes met, the Tyrell boy attacked rashly and was punished with a strong hit to the right shoulder.

Learning his lesson, he became more cautious. Instead of attacking head on this time, he began studying his opponent. Domeric followed his example and shifted in a defensive stance. Loras suddenly charged and attempted another overhead strike, this time instead of blocking he dodged out of the way. They continued like this for a bit, testing each other's defenses and searching for any kind of flaw in their form. Finding none, they began circling each other.

"Give up Bolton, your northern hide may be thick but it won't be able to save you from my blade." Loras mocked Domeric.

"Really, and I should care, why. You haven't even scored a glancing blow against me, let alone drawn blood." Domeric gave him a mock-confused look, infuriating his opponent who snarled in anger and rushed to engage once again. They continued fighting, trading blows and barbs with increasing frequency.

They stopped for a moment, both breathing deeply from their bout. Loras Tyrell only had time to blink in shock before he was forced to block the incoming blade, which he clumsily did. Domeric on the other hand was prepared for it and let loose a volley of slashes and stabs, never letting the Tyrell boy regain his balance. He finally saw an opening when Loras stretched his arm too far when defending himself. Rolling under the swing, Domeric slashed his opponent on the unprotected right calf.

Loras cried out in pain but was abruptly cut off when the blunted end of Domeric's sword was thrust viciously in his back, forcing the air out of his lungs. That was the major disadvantage of skin-tight armor, even weaker blows give you nasty bruises and the one that he used was definitely going to leave some impression behind, _permanently_.

Loras was face down on the ground, moaning in pain from the heavy blow. Domeric kicked his blade away and turned him around, pointing his sword to his neck. He was panting from the rapid charge but managed out, "Do…do you…yield?"

"I yield." Loras moaned out and closed his eyes in shame. The crowd went wild and even many of the nobles were on their feet, clapping for the great duel that they witnessed. Domeric removed his sword, sheathed it, and walked in front of the main pavallion. He took a knee in front of the King with his head bowed and eyes set firmly on the ground.

"Rise," King Robert commanded and looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face for a moment, the suddenly his face broke in a massive grin and he said, "Bravo! Young Bolton, simply bravo. Showed these boot-licking knights how real men fight, how men of the North fight! My boy, you have great talent and I want to see you participate in jousting in the next tourney."

Domeric gave a sincere smile in return and said, "Thank you, your grace. Your compliments warm my heart and I would be most honored to participate in jousting in the future but I fear that I would be unable to as I am not a knight yet."

Robert looked thoughtful then smiled again, a big smug smile. He loudly declared, "It can easily be solved then." He walked out of his pavilion and stood in front of Domeric, flanked on both sides by Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Arys Oakheart.

He stood in front of Domeric and commanded, "Kneel." Domeric silently followed his command and knelt in front of his king. He heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed.

"Domeric of House Bolton, I Robert of House Baratheon, Lord of Seven kingdoms and Protector of the realm charge you to protect the crown honorably, truthfully and justly. I give you the duty of protecting the small-folk and nobles alike.

The sword was placed on his right shoulder. "In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave."

Then the blade shifted to his left shoulder. "In the name of The Father I charge you to be just", again to the left.

"In the name of the Mother I charge you to protect young and innocent." The sword was once again on his right shoulder.

"In the name of the Maiden I charge you to protect all the women." The sword was now sitting on his left shoulder once again.

"In the name of the Smith I charge you to work hard in order to attain your goals." Once again the blade was put smoothly on his right shoulder.

"In the name of the Crone I charge you to use wisdom in your decision." Now the last time the sword was placed on his left shoulder.

"In the name of the Stranger I ask you to honorably accept Death when it comes knocking on your door."

"Rise Ser Domeric Bolton of Dreadfort, may you achieve greatness and your enemies lie in the pool of their own blood." Robert declared loudly and the small-folk cheered for the young knight.

The feast that was arranged later in the day for crown prince's name day was in one word: grand. There were dishes from not only Westeros but also from Essos. The great hall of the palace was decorated in gold, red and black colors. It practically screamed royalty.

But these thoughts were far from Domeric's mind as at the moment, he was being forced to meet with various lords who wanted to congratulate him on his knighthood *cough marriage proposals cough*. Domeric finally got tired of it and walked out of the hall towards one of the many gardens.

He breathed the fresh air of the night, standing in one of the rose gardens. It had to be one of the rare few places in city that didn't stink. The rain had thankfully stopped after just a couple of hours, but the storm remained, obscuring the full moon behind its dark curtains. He had just started to wander about when he came face to face with Lord Jon Arryn. He was surprised and unprepared to say the least, but soon training kicked in and he composed himself.

He quickly bowed and said, "Lord Arryn."

The Arryn lord gave him a respectable nod in return. "Congratulations Ser Domeric, on being knighted by his grace King Robert."

"Thank you my lord hand, I am grateful for your kind words. Though I will like to know if it is just a social chat or there is an ulterior motive hidden behind it." Domeric said and gave him a sly smile.

"You are as smart as lords of Vale said, blunt too. If my sources are to be believed, they have affectionately started calling you 'The Negotiator' these days." Lord Arryn told him, chuckling when Domeric uncharacteristically let out a groan of annoyance.

"I am sure Lord Royce had some part in it." Domeric commented dryly. Lord Arryn merely smiled in response. However he soon became serious.

"You are quick with a blade and know your way around the court; I could use someone like you around here." Lord Arryn told him.

"What are you suggesting, my lord?" Now Domeric was truly curious as to what game, the hand of the king was playing.

"I want you to work as a messenger of sort for me, an official aide of the hand who would solve matters of dispute between various lords. You will be crown's face not only for many lords but also merchants and Iron Bank."

"My old age is catching up to me fast, I am not as capable of travelling as I used to be. Time waits for none young Bolton and I hope to see Robert's line established for good by the time I leave this world. I see potential in you and both Yohn and Eddard have vouched for your character."

Domeric stood petrified for a moment, truly shocked by the offer that Jon Arryn was making him. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and started idle conversation to buy himself some time.

"I think that the position that you are offering me is traditionally and unofficially belong to crown prince or the King's brothers when the crown prince is not old enough. I am sure you knew all this Lord Arryn, why chose me then?"

The Arryn lord grimaced ever so slightly. "This was the conversation that I was trying to avoid but now that you have asked about it, I will explain the situation. You are indeed correct that about who holds the position, the problem is that there is no one eligible to hold the position."

"Stannis is too blunt and single-minded to be sent on diplomatic missions. He lives by honor and I highly respect him for it, but the truth is that his approach towards many problems is too militaristic for him to succeed. Renly is Lord of Stormlands and cannot divide his time, he is already doing the job of Master of Laws and I do not think he can be burdened anymore. Lastly, the two princes are simply too young for the job."

"I am truly honored by your offer my lord, but there is a problem with it." Domeric continued on his companion's intrigued look, "I am sure you have heard of the new port town that is being constructed on my family's lands."

Here, he waited for Lord Arryn to ponder on his words. After receiving a nod he continued, "My father is a competent man, but he already have too many responsibilities as Lord of Dreadfort and cannot oversee the establishment of the new town for much longer, let alone govern it. He requires my assistance and since the idea of the new town was of my own making, I cannot balk out of it." Domeric frankly explained his situation.

The position that he was being offered was truly tremendous, and tantalizing. He would freely admit to himself that there were many in the realm who would sell their souls for the kind of power that he was being offered.

Lord Arryn looked disappointed for a moment but then his face set in a thoughtful frown. He seemed to be thinking over something so hard that he forgot Domeric, who was still standing there, albeit, a bit awkwardly now.

Lord Arryn finally came out of whatever place that he had momentarily travelled off to and asked. "How long do you think it will take you to fully establish your city?"

"I will at least need a year to work out all the minor and major details regarding the docks, a new castle, walls, guards, merchants and what not. Even in a year, I will be able to only lay some foundations down."

"Then I will have to travel all over the world to make new trade agreements and the likes to ensure that my town has a proper economy which will take another year or even more. So, make it at least two years before I can even begin to consider accepting your offer." Domeric sighed at the amazing opportunity that he lost but knew that he did not have any surplus time to juggle through all his duties.

"Hmmm…maybe you can work for me after two years. In the mean time, you can work for me in the North at the very least." He stated more than asked. Domeric quickly gathered that Jon Arryn was not a man to be denied. So, Domeric just nodded his head and decided to bear with it, for now, if any problem rose he will try his best to resolve it.

He was sure that there won't be much to do in the North anyway. Normally, the lords went to their liege to solve these matters. However they were allowed to call upon the king to involve himself in the case, sometimes the lord went directly to king when the other party was related to one of the great house and there was chance of partiality.

It was not so uncommon in south, in north however, the situation was different. If one of the lords went to the king, it would be seen as a sign of extreme distrust towards their liege lord. They would indirectly be questioning the honor of house Stark, earning them the ire of not only the great house but of whole kingdom.

The same night after the feast, Domeric met Liam in his room at the inn. It was close to midnight when Liam crept in his room and raised Domeric from his slumber.

"So, did you find our target?" Domeric questioned as soon as he regained his bearings.

"Yes my lord. She is working in one of Littlefinger's pub in Flea Bottom. Though, I could not find where she is living, as of now."

"Doesn't matter, we are taking her with us, one way or another." Domeric declared, determined to see it through.

Liam though was still skeptical and asked how. Domeric replied, "I will create a commotion in the pub. Once everyone is distracted, take your sister to the docks and have her hide on our ship with the cargo that has been loaded. I will have my party already boarded by then, we will make a quick escape with none the wiser."

"I will do as you command me, my lord. I once again thank you for doing this for me. I will forever be in your debt." Liam whispered and bowed low in front of his lord.

"Think nothing of it. Any honorable man would have done the same, and as for your debt, the work that you have been doing and will do in the future more than makes up for it. Go and rest now, tomorrow is going to be a long day." Domeric watched him leave and decided that worrying over the issue will achieve him nothing, so he quickly fell asleep peacefully for the rest of the night.

The next day Domeric told Lord Royce of his plan and the later agreed that they should board the ship after an early lunch. The wizard determined that the pub would be full around mid-day during the lunch hours. Liam's sister, Lisa, worked in the lunch shift so getting to her won't be much of a trouble. Escaping however, will be far trickier. So, after taking his hearty fill from the meal provided at the inn, he and Liam rode on their horses towards the pub.

The pub, like any other in the Flea Bottom, reeked like nothing other. It was dirty and disgusting, at least from the outside, but Domeric reserved his judgment till they entered the place. The pub was full, as they predicted. Most of the patrons were sell swords or hedge knights along with a dozen or so small-folks. Domeric was also able to spot a small group of Lannister soldiers, five or six by the look of it.

' _Good, it will definitely make my job easier,'_ he thought wickedly.

Domeric had taken the face of his godfather, Sirius Black. He not only wanted to remove any kind of trail but also wanted to honor his godfather's memory. And what better way to do this than doing the thing his godfather reveled in, causing mischief and mayhem.

Though, his method was surely going to be far more damaging. The pair was dressed in old and dirty clothes with a common sword on their hips, looking like any other sell-swords. Domeric instructed Liam to take a seat behind Lannister soldiers. He went towards the bar and said to the man behind the counter.

"How much, for a cup of ale, fella?" Domeric asked gruffly.

"A copper would suffice." The burly man replied back.

Domeric then turned around and addressed the patrons of the bar drunkenly. "My dear brothers", he said loudly, swaying dangerously on his feet, instantly grabbing the attention of the crowd.

"My lovely wife gave birth to my son. I wanted to celebrate but have no one to share my joy with. So," now he turned to the bartender and tossed him a couple of silver stags and said, "The drinks of all these good people are on me. Let the ale flow!"

That did the work, the patrons cheered and prayed to their gods for the well-being of his imaginary son and wife. Time and wine flowed in tandem as people got more and more drunk. Domeric decided that now was the time to proceed with the plan. Liam had already located his sister and had prepared her for their run.

Domeric walked up to the table full of Lannisters and said, "I don't like your face", to their apparent leader. The said leader grunted, stood up, swayed on his feet and roughly pushed Domeric.

"Does it look like I care, you cur." The golden shit that was soon going to be a shit stain spat out.

However, Domeric grabbed his arm and sneered out, "I like your colors even less." The man apparently offended by it, roared something unintelligible and punched Domeric in the stomach. Domeric doubled over and made dry retching sound.

Then Liam came behind the now standing Lannister leader and bashed his ale mug against head, hard, and cried out, "Stay away from us small-folks, you Lannister scum!"

And the next thing the wizard knew; an all-out bar brawl broke out. The small-folk drunkenly started beating the ever living shit out of the Lannister soldiers once the sell swords, with the help of Domeric and Liam, disarmed them. In the ensuing royal rumble, the wizard indicated his partner to escape with his sister. Just after Liam left, city guards rushed in to stop the fighting.

There were maybe six of them, however Domeric did not care and said loudly, "More Lannisters, look at them, strutting around like they own the damn place. Die motherfuckers!" Domeric rushed towards their leader with a sword in hand. Other sell-swords quickly followed suit and charged as a horde towards the members of the city watch. Domeric quickly cut down their leader, who was also coincidentally, one of the men that Baelish had in his pockets. The brief mind scan that he did on the man told him that the whole group was corrupt and often worked for the queen too, for a price of course.

Once they were dealt with, he made a quick retreat and stumbled out in the street, in broad daylight, only to find a trio of Lannister soldiers charging towards him, on their horses. Domeric decided that now was not the time to be nice and took out one of his throwing knives. He threw it while infusing it with a bit of magic; the blade smoothly stuck itself between a pair of eyes belonging to one of the Lannister guards.

The other two were shocked and it cost another one his life when a blade pierced his neck with such force that he was thrown off his horse. The last soldier apparently terrified, tried turning his horse around, intending to run away from the crazy knife-man only to get a knife to the head for his troubles. Domeric took a deep breath to calm down a bit and slipped in a dark alley. He swiftly made his way towards the docks while changing his appearance to that of Domeric Bolton and boarded the ship.

He signaled the captain to lift the anchor, following it; the ship promptly sailed away from the King's Landing. He did not bother to check on Liam and Lisa as he had already felt their presence on the ship through his medallions. He had sent his things with the servants prior to his noon activities and was currently striding towards the ship's storage place, where he had instructed Liam to hide his sister. It had been two days since their _brawl_ in King's Landing and Domeric considered that the time was perfect to meet his new ward.

He knocked on the door leading to cargo hold of the ship in a particular pattern to let the girl know of his arrival. He had the captain forbid the crew members from venturing down, in the cargo hold, for the rest of the journey. They were told that there were precious goods down here, nothing that they were allowed to see let alone touch, which in a way was true. Liam would sooner cut his heads off than let anyone harm hissister and his loyalty to the wizard was unquestionable.

Domeric was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of opening of the large door. He immediately invited himself in once the door was opened enough to do so. When he came face to face with Lisa, she quickly bowed, recognizing Domeric and moved to bolt the door once she was permitted to rise.

She was not what men from his home world would call drop dead gorgeous but was more than pleasant enough to look at. Like Liam, she had dark brown hairs, high cheekbones and brown eyes. She was nineteen and of average height, around 5'4'', maybe, he was no expert in measuring heights.

Domeric cut short his observations once Lisa closed the entrance. He secretly sealed the door and placed some privacy wards on it. He gestured Lisa to follow him, which she obediently did. He took a chair in front of the bed that Lisa was using for sleeping and gestured for Lisa to sit down.

Domeric asked softly, "Do you know who I am, my lady?" Lisa wordlessly answered with a nod.

Domeric continued with a smile, "No, I don't think you do but allow me to formerly introduce myself. I am Ser Domeric Bolton, heir of House Bolton of Dreadfort. I am also Liam's employer or what you will call, his liege lord." Domeric took her hand and kissed the back of it causing her to blush brightly.

Domeric continued seriously, "Now, that is what the world knows about me but the truth is so much more. I am what you can call, a wizard or more specifically a mage." She seemed rather taken aback by his proclamation, not that he could blame her. If someone had told him that, before he was introduced to the magical world, he would have been skeptical at best and laughing his ass off at his worst.

Before she was able to object or show her skepticism, Domeric waved his hand and the pillow that she was using these past few days flew into the wizard's waiting hand. Her eyes went wide at the casual display of magic. She soundlessly worked her mouth, trying to form words based on what she witnessed. After some time she managed to regain some sort of composure though she was still visibly shaken with thousand and one thoughts running through her mind.

"Before you ask, yes, what you saw, just about now, was honest to god magic. Contrary to popular belief, magic still exists and was not restricted to Old Valyria. It is weakened at the moment but it is a force of nature and as such cannot simply vanish. I think, magic like season in Westeros, come and go in cycles spanning over years" She took it in and remained silent for a moment.

"Why tell me this, my lord?" Domeric instantaneously thought, _'Well she got the courage to ask some questions at least, good for her.'_

"Because I am in need of a trusted servant, the world cannot know about my powers just yet. Some people, the faith in particular, will fear me and label me as a monster or something else similarly horrendous to turn the small-folks against me. They will straight away call for my blood. I need a servant who can cover up for me and keep his or her mouth shut in the process while I secretly prepare for the day when it happens." Domeric told her.

"But why specifically me my lord, while I understand your requirement, you haven't told me how that is related to me." She replied back still not truly satisfied from his answer.

"You truly don't know about Liam's position in my household, do you?" He half-stated half-asked in amusement. At her shaking of head, he replied, "Liam is currently my most trusted advisor, comrade, my spy master but most importantly my closest friend."

"You are his sister, and by extension I trust you and consider you m friend. We have been working together for last eight years and have been friends for as long. He swore to be my man in return of his sister's freedom." She seemed shocked that her brother was so important and even more so when Domeric called her a friend. Domeric smiled gently to her and received a weak one in return once her sock had worn off.

He took her hands in his and said earnestly, "Now you see why I want you t work with me. Baelish by now would have figured out that you are no longer in King's Landing and I was behind it, as it is not every other day that the sister of the boy who is spying on a lord escapes when said lord is visiting the capital."

"He will know that Liam has become a 'turn-cloak' right away, and no doubt, would stop at nothing to see him destroyed, even going as far as to harm you in any way possible. Liam and I, we both think that you will be safer with me being near."

Lisa seemed nervous but also determined. She did not want to be near Petyr Baelish or his men again in any way or form; first time was bad enough, thank you very much. The last few years had been hell for her and she would rather die than be captured again.

"I humbly accept my position in your household, my lord." She replied and bowed her head in respect and deference.

"I am glad but I must ask some things first Lisa." At her nod he continued, "Were you abused in any form by Baelish or his men?" That was the question that Domeric needed the answer of and Liam did not dare ask. Domeric waited for reply as that would decide how mentally fit she was.

Any kind of abuse can cause a number of psychological problems in the victim; he himself was proof of that and couldn't remember the number of times he cried himself to sleep because the memories kept resurfacing. She would need medical help from The Camp where healers were available for mental problems, what with the soldiers suffering from PTSD.

"No, my lord, neither Baelish nor his men ever abused me, though many of them loved to grope me. They were ordered by Baelish to go no further than that. However, it did not stop his men or his whores from verbally berating me and saying horrible things about my brother and my late mother." She finished on a bitter note.

Harry could certainly sympathize with her, he himself had been abused and it was only with the help of his family and friends, especially Ginny, that he was able to regain any kind of pride and confidence in himself. He decided then and there that he will help Lisa get over her unpleasant experience in King's Landing.

"Very well, I am going to Runestone through Gulltown where I had been squiring for Lord Royce these past few years. Although, now that I have gained my knighthood, I will be returning back to my home: Dreadfort."

Lisa listened with rapt attention as he continued, "Now, I can't take you with me to Runestone as there will be a lot of questions asked. You will remain in Gulltown with Liam till I return, at which point you both will come with me to Dreadfort. It will probably take me a week before I will be able to return, a week that I want you to relax with your brother. I want you to spend as much time as possible with him because once we reach North both of you will be very busy and will seldom see each other."

Lisa nodded in acceptance. They remained in comfortable silence for a moment before Domeric asked, "Lisa, do you know how to read and write?"

"I do, my lord. It was required of me as I was sent by Lord Baelish to many highborn ladies to work as a handmaiden from time to time." Domeric contemplated some more and came to the conclusion that although she knew basic things, she still had lots to learn.

"I am not going to lie to you, your job will be difficult and you will be very busy for at least the next couple of years. Your knowledge is basic but if you want to do your duty efficiently, you will need to learn a great deal of new things. I and Liam will help you during our journey from Gulltown to the North but I will expect you to continue increasing your knowledge even after that."

They both talked some more about her duties and Domeric's magical powers. Later during lunch they were joined by Liam who brought had their meal with him. The remaining time of the day was spent chatting and joking, in which they got to know each other better. Seeing his first friend in the new world laughing so freely, Domeric decided that yes, the trip to King's Landing was very much successful.

 **To be continued...**

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 **I hope that you enjoyed it and don't forget to write reviews ;)**


	15. Chapter 15: Trouble in the Haven

**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Game of Thrones(A song of Ice and Fire either)**

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 **Chapter-15: Trouble in the Haven**

"How long before we reach Last Haven, my lord?" Liam asked Domeric who was standing on the deck, looking out towards the sea, enjoying the cool wind blowing through his hair.

"By the nightfall I presume. It is not accurate but we are travelling along the coast, so we can be sure of not missing the port." Liam nodded his head in understanding and took his position, behind his lord to the right.

They stood there in silence while Domeric thought back on the past three months. Much of his time has been spent here, out in the sea, or in the free-cities. Once they had reached Runestone after a week in the sea, Lord Royce had organized a big feast for Domeric.

Various lords and ladies from Vale like Lord Redfort, Lady Waynwood and even Lord Shett had been invited. He also had the pleasure of meeting Lord Nestor Royce, steward of Eyrie in absence of Lord Jon Arryn. He had been specially invited by his cousin, Lord Yohn Royce.

Domeric personally thought that the feast was a bit over the top but still considered it a pleasant experience. He made his way towards the cargo hold of the ship, in search of a chestnut-colored palfrey. It was a well-bred animal, larger than a normal palfrey. He still remembered the day he acquired such a fine companion.

 _Flashback…_

Domeric and his party were standing in front of his ship, _The Lightning._ Currently, they were waiting for Lord Royce to arrive; he had slipped away for a moment while Domeric had been saying his farewell to the rest of the Royce family.

He finally spotted Yohn who was making his way towards Domeric with a servant and a chestnut palfrey trailing behind him. The horse must have cost a small fortune, Domeric idly noted while mainly focusing on Bronze Yohn who was looking mightily pleased about something.

"Where have you been Uncle Royce, I was beginning to thing you have gone somewhere to cry alone." Domeric jested with a good-natured grin.

"You must be getting slow in your old age, father." Ser Andar joked and shared a grin with Domeric.

"Oh…old man, am I now. I seem to recall that you still are the one testing dirt in our spars." Lord Royce mocked his son. The rest of the gathered people chuckled at the byplay.

"And no, I was neither lost nor crying. I had gone to collect your present, a reward for becoming a knight at such a young age and in such a spectacular fashion at that." Lord Royce said with a warm smile towards Domeric while the servant gave the reins of the horse to him at the same time.

"Well, this is unexpected and very gracious gift but I can't accept this. It must have cost you a small fortune!" Domeric blurted out loud, surprised by the gift.

"Aye, it did lad. However, let's not forget that you have also faithfully served as my squire for past five years. The way I see it, you more than earned this horse and on top of that the less said about the investments that you made on behalf of House Royce the better."

"I would have given you much more but I knew that you would not accept anything grander. So...take this as a memento of your time spent here." Lord Royce declared and embraced Domeric in a tight hug.

Domeric returned the hug with equal enthusiasm and heard him whisper, "Remember Domeric, I consider you one of us. You will always find a room waiting for you here in Runestone."

Domeric whispered back, "Don't worry uncle, you haven't seen the last of me."

Yohn released him from his grip and placed his hand on his shoulders. "I sure hope not my boy. Go now and make me proud."

After securing the palfrey in his grip, he boarded the ship and waved back towards the people that he considered his extended family.

 _Flashback ends…_

"You need a good name. What to call you?" Domeric mused to himself while patting the soft coat of the animal. He continued his ministrations before suddenly saying, "Castan; that is what I will call you, the Welsh word for chestnut." Nothing overly imaginative but meh, he was not feeling particularly enthusiastic.

He once again mentally started recalling the time that he had spent these past months lazing around the ship. He often visited The Camp and his other bases in Braavos, Lorath and Pentos but most of the time he could be found relaxing in his room, reading a good book.

Lisa had also adjusted well in her new job. Liam and sometimes Domeric too, were found filling gaps in her education which was helped by the fact that she was a fast learner. Domeric was impressed by her organization skills and was looking forward to having a competent aide.

After staying at Runestone for a week they had decided to sail for the North. Though, this time their path was different, instead of going to White Harbor, they were sailing directly towards Last Haven, the new port town that was being developed on the mouth of Last River by House Bolton.

The men and supplies that Domeric had continued to send to the town over the years had ensured that the town had continued to grow. It won't equal Lannisport or even White Harbor anytime soon but he planned to develop it as the main naval port of the North. Lord Stark had expressed as much in his recent letters and so had his own father for that matter.

According to the recent reports, the construction of docks would be finished by the time he reached there. He had already ordered the construction of a massive shipyard which would take another six months to finish. Though, he will make sure to speed up the process to three months only. He determined that by using magic and increasing the number of workers he could achieve it.

The shouts coming from the deck drew his attention elsewhere. He listened carefully and deduced that they were not the cry of alarms like he had feared. He leisurely climbed up and once again came upon the main deck.

The captain of _The Lightning_ , Alder 'Redwhale'; peculiar name, came towards Domeric and said, "We 'ave spotted the port, milord."

Domeric took the spyglass from captain and took in the first sight of his long-time project. The port was just as he had imagined it; the town lay around the southern bank of the river while a new castle and the shipyard was being built north of the river in the lands previously owned by Karstarks.

They had to be personally convinced by Lord Stark to give up the lands to House Bolton. They agreed but in return they asked House Bolton to give them an important coal mine that was close to their border. 'I guess you gain something and you lose something,' thought Domeric.

The walls around the town were non-existent at the moment but he was determined to resolve this glaring weaknessbefore the castle and towers were constructed. He stopped his observation long enough to instruct the still present captain to sail towards the harbor.

The natural harbor at the mouth of the river was truly the reason as to why his father and Lord Stark were so keen onfollowinghis suggestion. All the great cities in Westeros had their own ports and all of them were built around a natural harbor.

Soon Domeric was roaming the streets of Last Haven with Ser Ethan Marsh, the captain of garrison of the town. He was one of the Bolton bannermen that had been stationed at the town for the last few years. The garrison was a rather small force of five-hundred men, they did both the guard and patrol duties. It was sufficient for now as they only faced occasional bandits or wildling raiding parties.

Domeric asked, "How many men are currently living in the town Ser Ethan?"

"Around six thousand people, my lord. Everyday more people are arriving as word of a new port town this far north is spreading fast across the land." He looked proud.

"Tell me good Ser, has there been any problems in this area that I should be aware of." Domeric gave the man a piercing stare when he saw him hesitate.

"I-I have heard rumors, my lord. Many wildlings had been sighted this far south by the Karstark patrols. There has been a noticeable increase in the recent raids. In the beginning, they raided in groups of twenty or so, nothing our patrols couldn't handle, but these days some of their parties number anything between sixty to eighty men."

Domeric appeared calm from the outside but he was troubled internally. For wildlings to attack in such large numbers; something must have changed north of the Wall. He finally answered, "Gather at least two-hundred men from the town who wish to fight, you need to train them. I will ask father to supply us with two-hundred more men. I fear that there will be a major attack soon and we will be forced to defend our home."

Ser Ethan looked nervous but also determined, "Very well, my lord. The town guards stand with you."

Domeric commanded firmly, "I want every guard, all five hundred of them in the training ground tomorrow at the dawn. I will personally train them in the morning, and see to it that they arrive there without fail."

Domeric called an emergency brainstorming session with Liam and Lisa where they discussed the matter in details. It was decided that Liam will go to Karhold as Domeric's personal aide and get as much information out of Karstark lord as possible. At the same time, Ser Ethan will be leading small scouting parties in the nearby lands to locate the wildings.

It was determined that if they were spotted and their location confirmed, then Domeric himself would lead the attack. It was risky move but if he wanted to prove himself then he would have to lead his men. Even after being a knight, not many would follow him in a battle that is why he had called the men tomorrow in the morning for practice. It was a chance for him to show the guards stationed there that he meant serious business.

On the economic front, the place was positively booming. However, sooner or later it will reach its economic cap after which they will need new trade. They can import a lot from outside world but the demand was short. People of the North never believed in extravagance, so goods like perfume, expensive wines, silk clothes, spices, etc held little value to them.

That left only one option available to him: export. To do that successfully, one requires unique products, products that are not found elsewhere in the world. The wizard had many ideas but few ways of implementing them. He decided that he will go one step at a time, planning too much ahead will do him no good.

The next day Domeric rose up early and dressed for a hard day in training yard. He was wearing a simple brown tunic with heavy fur and white breaches with a blue belt tied around his vest. His hunting knives were attached to the belt and his throwing knives were secured in the small holsters knitted in the belt. His sword was attached to his left hip and a pair of daggers hidden in his boots.

He set his face in a scowl to look intimidating and jogged towards the training area. He arrived in the arena and increased his magical presence a bit, enough to keep most of them in line. His arrival quickly gained attention of his men and they slowly gathered around him.

He shouted, "Alright, listen up you maggots. I am Domeric Bolton and I will be training you from now on. In this arena I not a knight and I am not your lord. In this place I am your teacher and you will listen to me or I will send you to wall as a volunteer for a month where you will freeze your asses. Is that clear?" He only got mutterings in response.

The men were clearly intimated and confused, 'good, they are learning' Domeric thought viciously. Domeric once again shouted, "Listen up fuckers, I don't have time for your half-assed responses. So, when I next ask something, you better answer it loud and clear." The men shared uneasy glances but then Domeric once again shouted, "IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?"

This time his answer was a loud "Aye" by the guards.

Domeric continued but this time much softer, "Now, many of you are wondering that why are you being trained by me. The reason is simple; there had been wildling attacks with increased frequency in recent days. It appears that they are going to attack our town. We are the only thing standing between these savages and our families."

"Evading them, running away or even peacefully settling the matter is not even an option against wildlings. If we do not fight then our homes will be destroyed, women raped and children slaughtered, years of hard work will be for naught."

"But we have a chance, we have an advantage. We know that they are coming but they don't know we're preparing for them. We can still win...we will win but the question remains...are you with me?" This time there was a huge cheer among the ranks. Domeric looked at the crowd and thought, 'Step-1 gaining support and respect of the guards: complete. Just have to remember: one step at a time.'

Domeric trained the men for the next few hours till breakfast. He asked them to once again meet him the next day at the same time. This was immediately met with groans of protests but a stern look set them straight.

This continued for another week, he would train them in the morning and manage the town for the rest of the day while preparing traps and whatever meager defenses he could scrap together during evenings.

* * *

While Domeric was doing his own duty in Last Haven, Roose Bolton was sitting in his solar reading the letter sent to him by his son. He would gladly admit to anyone that he was proud of his heir. He not only gained knighthood but did it in a way for which he will be remembered for a long time. But, back to the issue at hand, no pun intended.

 _Dear Father,_

 _I hope that this letter finds you in good health. I write this to inform you that I have finally arrived in Last Haven after two months of continuous travel. Fortunately, my travel was both safe and swift._

 _I know you are a blunt man, with me that is, so I will cut to the chase. I talked to Ser Ethan Marsh, the captain of the garrison here in Last Haven, and he delivered troubling news. Some Karstark patrols have spotted many large groups of wildlings moving south. Whether their destination is Last Haven or not is yet to be decided but we both have agreed to the fact that they will attack our town. Their numbers are large, at least some five thousand or so; how did they manage to remain hidden is a complete mystery to me._

 _The Umber and Karstark guards should have spotted them way before they did. I smell foul play here but we cannot go looking for conspiracy theories when the enemy is at our gates. With your permission I will like to personally lead an investigation in this case once the wildlings are dealt with._

 _I do not need to point out the obvious that I need help. You promised me a hundred men-at-arms after my knighthood, now would be a good time to act upon it. Another two-hundred men beside that will suffice. I have already started training people here in town personally as well as the guards. I will also need supplies; weapons, armors, tents and a host of other things._

 _Father, this is not a situation beyond our control just yet, but I fear that can very well change and soon. That is why I will suggest that you make Winterfell aware of our recent problem before they hear about it from someone else._

 _-Ser Domeric Bolton,_

 _Heir of the House Bolton of Dreadfort_

The letter was straightforward and addressed the issue without beating around the bush. Roose though did not notice much of it, he was far more occupied by the fact that someone had dared to set foot in his lands without his permission. He could personally go and handle it but he wanted to test Domeric. He wanted to see if his son was a true warrior or a southern knight in his shining armor.

"Let's see if you are truly worthy enough to wear our house colors my son." Roose softly spoke out loud in the silent room. He called out for a servant and asked him to bring the captain of the guards to his solar. His orders were fulfilled and someone softly knocked on the door.

"Come in," he called out clearly.

Harold Planter bowed and then said, "You asked for me, my lord."

Roose leaned forward in his seat and commanded, "Ser Harold, I have a job for you..."

* * *

Domeric once again looked through the reports that his scouts had gathered this past week. They had not encountered a single wildling in their immediate area, which brought a soft sigh of relief out of had already instructed them to conduct a search over wider area, he was not going to be caught be caught unaware at any rate.

Liam had already sent a raven from Karhold and reported that the wildlings had been terrorizing the nearby villages and had even destroyed some of them. It confirmed that there were wildlings in the region, their numbers and location though still remained elusive.

A guard entered through the door, bowed and informed, "My lord, reinforcements from the Dreadfort have arrived."

Domeric immediately felt a whole lot more confident. It will also bolster the spirits of people living in the town. There had been a nervous vibe in the air since it was announced that wildlings will probably attack the town.

Domeric ordered, "Welcome them in the city and send the one who is leading them to my solar."

Domeric did not have to wait long as the man leading them came in the room. He was a tall man around six and a half feet in height, wearing heavy cavalry armor. He remembered the men from his childhood in the Dreadfort; it was none other than Ser Harold Planter, the captain of the guards of castle Dreadfort.

Domeric started conversation with a warm smile, "Ser Harold, looking as good and fit as ever."

"You too, my lord and if I maybe so bold, what have they been feeding you at Runestone. You have shot up like a weed!" It was true too, in the last two months alone he had grown another couple of inches. He was now six feet tall and built like a swimmer, lean and fast.

Domeric chuckled and said, "I am sure to ask Uncle Royce about that in my next letter."

He indicated for the other knight to take a seat and said, "We can chat later, but let's move on to the situation we find ourselves in for now."

"Aye, your father has sent three hundred men like you asked along with supplies for another five hundred men. There are armors, weapons, furs and food along with some medical supplies in the carts."

"Good to hear that father had taken my warning seriously." Domeric sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well then good ser, lead the way. I want to check, both the men and the willhave to see if there is anything more which is going to be needed." Ser Harold was quick to follow his command and took Domeric to the camp that they had set up outside the town.

They surveyed the camp and prepared an inventory of the supplies. Domeric himself talked to many men, especially the commanding officers. Theduo then inspected existing defenses and traps where Ser Harold quickly used his experience and arranged for more defenses to be prepared. By the nightfall, their chances of successfully defeating wildlings had increased tremendously.

Another week passed in which Liam returned to the camp and reported that one of the Karstark patrols had seen wildlings crossing the Last River north-west to their location, about ninety miles away.

That is how Domeric found himself seating at the head position of the meeting table set up in his solar with Liam to his right, Lisa standing behind him to his left and Ser Harold sitting left of him while Ser Ethan sat right to Liam. It was near midnight and Domeric was tad displeased after being woken up in the middle of the night.

He askedin irritation, "So, what reason do you have for calling this meeting in such hurry, Ser Ethan?"

"My lord, I apologize for the abrupt manner in which you were woken up but I bring bad news." He said, looking both nervous and apologetic.

Domeric leaned forwardin his chair, all the previous anger forgotten. "Explain", he said.

Ser Marsh sat up straighter and spoke, "A patrol of mine came across a large group of wildlings some fifty miles away from here. Small parties of twenty and thirty are regularly joining them. By now, there are some three thousand of those worms in that camp."

Domeric asked again, "How come no Bolton patrol spotted them?"

Ser Ethan frowned and admitted, "Because they were killed, the men went too close in their investigation. They were ambushed and butchered to the last man. We only found out because one of our own patrols found their bodies."

The young wizard rubbed his temples and muttered something about 'incompetent idiots' or some such under his breath. A typical patrol in the North was usually comprised of twelve to twenty men with one of them their leader so that means that his house lost at least another twelve men.

He leaned back in his seat and looked towards the ceiling, thinking about the information he was given. He was making plans and discarding them just as quickly. Finally, he snapped his head towards Ser Ethan and asked sharply, "You said that smaller parties are continuously joining them; correct."

At the knight's nod he smiled and began, "So, here's what we are going…"

* * *

Ser Harold Planter was not a man that was easily scared but at the moment he would admit at least in the confines of his own mind that he was more than a little afraid. The plan that Ser Bolton concocted was an aggressive one; it was risky and dangerous but the young heir was sure that it will work. So like a good subordinate he had placed his trust in his lord and was now following his orders.

A scout rode towards him and said, "We have spotted them captain. Twenty-six of them, all armed with crude weapons. A mile ahead of here they have set up a have already killed their lookout and now await your orders."

Harold just nodded and turned towards the rest of his men, some fifty of them. He bellowed, "Alright chaps listen up. There is an enemy camp a mile or so ahead of us. We outnumber them 2 to 1. Let's make it quick men, let us show them what happens when you cross blades with the House Bolton after all: _**OUR BLADES ARE SHARP!**_ " The rest of the men cheered in agreement and rode out towards the camp.

Domeric was waiting in his command tent looking towards the map of the region when Ser Ethan came in the tent.

"My lord, Ser Harold reports of having finished four wilding parties, about a hundred men and women. I myself put another two-hundred wildlings to swords. Another party of fifty warriors led by Justin Snow, captain of your personal guard, slaughtered some hundred or so in various skirmishes."

"How many did we lose in turn, Ser?" Domeric asked.

"We lost fifteen men, another twenty are heavily injured and won't be fighting anytime soon. The rest of them only received small injuries. I must admit that I was not sure of your plan, we could have been caught unaware by a second party while we were attacking the first one but this way we lost few men."

"Aye, I was afraid of it too. That is why I had groups of thirty riders shadowing each of the assigned groups. They were just out of your scouting range but close enough to follow you and assist you should you need it." Domeric smiled grimly towards the captain who was looking impressed by his strategic planning.

Ser Ethan grinned and said, "It appears that you have learned more than fastening your armor in the south, my lord."

Domeric smiled and sarcastically quipped back, "Aye and did you forget that you are still behind me by six counts in our morning spars."

Ser Ethan scowled and said, "One of these days my lord I will be the one leading."

Domeric however continued smiling, "You are hundred years too early to do that Ser."

Ethan just replied, "We will see my lord, we will see," and walked out of the tent.

It was two days later that a new development occurred in their skirmishes. Apparently, the wildlings had gotten smarter and were now moving in larger numbers. So, instead of twenty to thirty wildlings there were sixty to seventy of them in the same group. Domeric then decided to change his tactics in turn but not before losing some more men.

He deployed four forces, each containing hundred riders. At a time, two forces will be moving in the field while the other two would be resting. He was rotating the forces to keep the troops fresh. It would have the added benefit of having fresh men available if a direct attack did occur.

The following week, instead of continuously worrying about wildlings, Domeric distracted himself by working in the shipyard. He directed more workers and even had the soldiers working there from time to time as their morning exercise.

He often mended tools and equipments using a quick _reparo._ During that time he also softened the land by using an area effect spell in the night so that it was easy to dig in the morning and will harden the ground after the work on foundation was done. Whenever new timber supplies arrived, he would personally inspect them and would then secretly mend any kind of wear and tear in the logs.

With the help of Maester Kendrick, the maester assigned to their town, he also developed a new system of pulleys and levers. Simple machines like those made jobs much easier for unskilled labor. With all the subtle help that he provided, the shipyard was going to be ready for production in another two months.

The wizard also oversaw the construction of the castle. It was going to be seat of his second heir one day as he himself would inherit the Dreadfort from his father and his first heir from himself. Only the low walls were completed by then, about twenty feet high which did not provide much protection.

He had personally provided design for the castle; it was going to be as big as the Dreadfort if not more so. The construction of the castle would continue for another five years but the main wing and three out of the eight planned towers were going to be completed in the first fifteen months.

Whatever time he had been left with was spent in taking care of the godswood. His father had ordered the plantation of the weirwood, ironoak, chestnut and some other treesinside the projected castle walls. His knowledge of Herbology helped him greatly in that endeavor.

He loved his time in Runestone but he never failed to miss the North. Somehow, the place had grown up on him, more than England ever did. There was just this feeling, the feeling of belonging somewhere. He truly felt like he was part of the society. It was not perfect but then again, where is perfect.

* * *

The young wizard was at the end of his wits; they had been fighting wildlings for closer to a month now. They had lost fifty men compared to eight hundred people that wildling leader lost. Yet, the situation remained unclear, even Liam had been unable to find much on them.

Domeric decided that it was time for him to take matters in his own hand. That is why he was currently flying in his bird form over the wildling camp and searching for an out of the way clearing to land in the middle of the night. He soon found one and silently dived towards it. As soon as he neared the ground he spread his wings far and landed easily, only producing a soft thud in the process.

Domeric reverted back to his human form and quickly applied a strong notice-me-not charm. He did not bother using invisibility spell as that was rather draining and he wanted to preserve his power as much as possible. He had a feeling that he was going to need it later in the night.

He silently crept in the direction of the camp while keeping an eye for scouts and lookout. The wildlings had been hiding in a small but particularly dense patch of forest. The land in this area was usually too barren to grow anything but this particular region had some forested lands. Other wildling parties were attacked and repelled so easily only because they were travelling though open-fields and mounted forces always do heavy damage against infantry unless you have some men capable of wielding spears or pikes in your midst.

They didn't stage many ambushes either; their superior training and armor ensured the victory more often than not. He himself had taken part in few of them to keep the morals high.

A red light shot out of his right hand and a body dropped to the ground. It was a wildling man who was cutting trees for firewood. They had tried interrogating some of them but either of the two things happened: first, the men themselves knew nothing or second, did not cooperate during questioning. So, Domeric did not bother with this one, just pierced his neck with a throwing knife and moved on.

He encountered a couple of other enemies which were easily subdued. Once he reached the edge of their camp, he applied his standard stealth charms and ran towards the biggest and ugliest tent. He wanted to preserve his energy so didn't bother looking around, instead focusing single-mindedly on what he thought was a command centre of some kind.

He entered the tent and found it to be empty. He then started searching the place, looking for anything that he could use. He had already applied an alert ward at the entrance so he threw caution to the wind and started tossing things around carelessly. He found some letters in Old Tongue, a map of the region and some kind of schedule, patrol time maybe. He quickly rearranged the room using magic and moved out.

He then started searching for the leader of the group. He was running out of magic, his reserves were already low because of all the help he had provided during the day and his flight in the bird form. He searched through the minds of whoever he came across. Even though most of them were thinking idle irrelevant things, he did get the name of their leader. Telix Blackfoot, one of the Thenn commanders, was the in charge of this expedition.

Thenn were the most advanced and organized of the wildling clans, which was surprising considering the fact that nearly all of them were cannibals to boot. They jealously guarded the secret of using bronze, only crafting weapons and light armor for themselves or in rare cases for those who managed to win their trust.

Domeric would have tried to negotiate before but now that he knew what kind of people they were, he was not going to waste his breath. Wildlings from Thenn were considered savages even among wildlings, an astonishing feat in itself which led him to believe that there was no way out of it other than an open battle.

All these thoughts were pushed out of his mind when he noticed the one that was leading them. Telix Blackfoot was a bear of a man, nearly seven feet in height with scars from past battles littering his face. He saw his bare feet and understood why he was called Blackfoot. Walking for so long in snow, without any protection will give anyone black feet. This man was dangerous and will be a tough opponent.

Domeric would have liked to observe more but knew that he was running out of juices fast. He also had to travel back in his animagus form which once again consumes magic. So, he vanished back in the forest and flew back to the town. Upon reaching there, he silently slipped in his room and slept till the dawn.

Next morning Domeric was found sitting with his commanders and Liam. Presently, they were discussing the recent information that the Bolton knight had gained last night. He rose from his seat and the previously bickering group instantly fell silent. It showed how much respect the commanders had for their lord.

"We do not have much time; we have already spent a whole month hunting these rodents down. However, we do need to plan; we can't just rush into this. They are people of Thenn, the best equipped and the most dangerous of the wildling clans." Domeric spoke with a hard and firm tone.

"What are you planning, Ser Domeric?" Liam asked, making Domeric to look curiously towards him with an eyebrow raised in question.

"I have seen that expression on your face my lord. You are like that when you have plan somewhere in your mind" Liam smiled and Domeric smirked and declared, "You know me well."

He continued, "What I plan is to lure them out. We will send…

* * *

 _Two days later…_

Ethan took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. What he was going to do was dangerous at best and suicidal at worst. However, he knew the importance of the task given to him by the young lord. Tonight there was no chance for failure.

He gestured for his men to follow him. They silently moved through the dense forest, trying to make as little noise as possible. His group was made up of a hundred men, each one only lightly armored and sparsely eqipped. Ethan spotted a small group of five wildlings standing around a fire. The captain indicated his archers to take them out which they did, quickly and silently, leaving only silence in their wake.

Their group continued its trek towards the main base, killing as many wildlings as possible along the way. The captain sighed in relief when they successfully reached the enemy camp without getting detected. Their first objective of the night was complete. Ethan commanded his troops to get in their positions. Since they were unable to properly surround the place with their numbers, he decided to arrange his men in an arc around the camp.

Once everyone was ready, he fired a flaming arrow towards a tent which soon caught fire. This was the signal for his group to charge towards the enemy. At least a dozen fell before they even realized what was happening around them. The sheer surprise allowed them to kill a lot of wildlings. But soon their enemy began forming in ranks and pushing back.

Ethan himself got busy with continuous hacking, slashing and blocking. He was killing wildling after wildling only stopping to survey the fighting or for barking orders. He was only injured lightly when one of the wildlings got lucky and nicked him on the thigh. He noticed that his men were soon going to be overwhelmed in their half-exhausted state. He searched for Telix and found that the man had also joined the fighting.

Ethan saw him kill two of his men and shouted, "Retreat," at the top of his lungs. He knew full well that fighting a superior force out in the open was plain foolish. They ran back the way they came in the camp. The wildlings gave them chase with Telix leading them with a savage grin. It was some of the longest minutes of his life as he and his men ran for their dear lives.

They saw their comrades being cut down before their very eyes. Even after retreating in timely manner many men fell either due to exhaustion or due to poor navigation through the forest. It was a gruesome fight, the likes of which none of them wanted to be part of ever again.

After what seemed like running for hours, they burst through the thick foliage. Ethan did not dare turning around, afraid of losing both his speed and nerve if he did so. Despite the fact that he could hear the sounds of hooves hitting against the ground, despite the fact that he could imagine wildling ranks being torn apart by his allies and despite the fact that he had no more energy left to run, he continued dragging himself until he fell down to his knees in exhaustion. Such was the haze of fear and terror that had taken hold over his heart.

* * *

 _Sometime before…_

Domeric's eyes snapped open and he gazed intently towards the forest. He was riding on a warhorse with another two-hundred mounted men behind him. As soon as he saw Ser Ethan clearing the tree line he commanded his men to charge towards the approaching wildlings from right.

They rapidly approached the enemy lines who were too late in noticing their presence, and were subsequently crushed from both sides. The surprise attack from both the left and right flank left them beaten and bloodied in few minutes. It was brutal and at least a sixth of them died before they regained their senses and started organizing. Domeric commanded one of his men to sound the large battle horn that could be heard for miles and received an answering call in return. He smiled in grim satisfaction and continued his attack.

While Domeric had attacked from the right, Justin Snow and his host of another two-hundred mounted men had attacked from the left. Both the forces had been hiding among the tree lines and had encircled the forest to reach the pursuing enemy forces just to remain out of sight as long as possible.

He himself was fighting like a man possessed. The wizard was not only leading his men but was also the first one to score a kill. He was butchering wildlings left and right, their bronze armors providing no resistance to his magically enhanced sword. His actions showed no hesitation even when his heart was crying out to him, to stop this senseless killing but his mind knew that the people won't surrender peacefully, that the enemy was lawless and only recognized and followed the most powerful amongst them.

The Bolton heir took a short break from the battle when the surrounding enemies were dealt with and surveyed the battlefield. Out of nearly fifteen hundred wildlings that had come charging out of the trees, nearly half were dead or close to dying. His own men numbered close to three hundred after the battle. They had battled fiercely and looked far more exhausted than wildlings.

He deduced that if the battle didn't end soon, his forces will be overrun and the fighting will get even bloodier with only a handful of survivors left to tell the tale. To that effect he tried to locate Blackfoot and off him in order to break the morals of wildling force. He found him fighting three opponents, keeping them at bay with ease. There were elite warriors of wildling forces around him, fighting their own opponent and preventing anyone from reaching Blackfoot.

Harry indicated for Justin to join him. Together, they cut through wildlings like a knife going through butter. The so called elite warriors provided minimum challenge for the duo. The wizard finally reached his opponent while Justin continued to keep the other wildings at bay, preventing them from interfering in the fight that was going to be fought between the two commanders.

They stood there for a moment, Domeric in his heavy castle-steel armor and Telix in his bronze armor.

CLANK

The voice ran out as Domeric's hunting knives stopped Blackfoot's double-bladed axe from cutting open his chest.

They remained locked for some time; each one testing other's strength. Naturally, Blackfoot was the stronger of the two. So, the knight stepped back and avoided another downward slash. Their fight continued with Domeric mostly dodging, parrying or blocking the hits. He knew that he had superior stamina out of the two as Blackfoot was already panting heavily after chasing Ser Ethan's group and fighting for so long. However, the gap was being slowly bridged as the knight himself was getting tired from all the dodging.

Though, Blackfoot was worse and soon began to tire out, his attacks getting more desperate and sloppy. They lost their refinement and Blackfoot slowly became angrier with his failure with each passing moment. Finally, he lost his cool and tackled Domeric to the ground where he tried punching him, key word: tried.  
(Here the writer would like to assure you that it is quite difficult to punch a true master of martial arts. If you have any doubts, be sure to try it. However, the writer cannot be held responsible for any kind of personal or property damage.)

Before he could even regret his mistake, Telix Blackfoot was knocked out by a hit to the neck by a very agile Bolton. As soon as wildlings saw their leader going down, they started running towards the forest, hoping to regroup and lick their wounds.

So, it came as quite a surprise to them when people around them started dropping like flies with arrows pierced through their body. However, their fear of the known outmatched their fear of the unknown so they kept trekking towards forest, shielding as much as they could from the hail of arrows.

They were desperate men who just wanted to go home and in process were ready to trample their own allies beneath their feet. Their mad dash however came to an abrupt end when fresh troops came out of the forest and started cutting them down. In that moment several of them realized how well and truly fucked they were. They were disorganized, exhausted, leaderless, desperate, and now outnumbered and surrounded too.

They still proved that a cornered animal is not the only one who is dangerous when with a wordless roar, many of them charged towards the incoming heavy infantry. Domeric did not get time to watch much but he was later told that the men that Ser Harold had led from the rear flank were quickly butchered before they managed to push the wildlings back.

* * *

 _At the same time when the battle started…_

Ser Harold Planter tightly gripped the hilt of his sword as he heard the sound of the horn from the other side of the forest. He commanded his lieutenant to sound the horn and then turned towards the four hundred men that will be joining him in the battle.

"Men of the North, our sworn enemies have dared to invade our territory! They tried taking what is ours and killed our brothers. They know no law and they know no honor! But today is not about them, it is about you. Tonight, we will win and there will be songs written of our great victory and glorious deeds. Tonight we will show no mercy to these savage cunts!"

The men cheered and Harold let them quiet down on their own before continuing, "However Lord Domeric had asked to not harm any child or innocent woman. We may kill in our Lord's name but we will not be becoming baby-killers. You don't want to be compared to Lannisters, do you?" The men grumbled but agreed.

Harold turned towards the forest and cried out, "Enough dallying, CHARGE!"

His men were quick to follow and he led them deeper in the woods. The woods were not large, not even five miles from this end to other but they were very dense. It was just a small patch of an old forest that continued to grow while the rest of it declined due to soil decay. They cut through any wildling that was in their path and did nothing to hide their movement. They tried to cover as much area as possible; however, there would always be some who manages to slip away.

The small army stormed in the camp which was already a flurry of activity. The screams of dying people and the crying of children filled the night. The Bolton men easily killed whatever fighters still remained in the camp.

Harold quickly assessed the situation and commanded, "Thirty men will stay here under Fred over there, the rest of you, with me. We have friend to save and wildlings to kill!" They roared in agreement and followed the trail that the wildlings left behind while chasing their brothers. They arrived just in time to see Ser Domeric defeating Blackfoot and knocking him out cold.

When he saw wildlings trying to retreat, he swiftly commanded his archers to let loose a volley of arrows. Arrows after arrows were released in the night sky until their enemy finally entered the tree line. Even though the wildlings were now trapped between the two armies, they continued to fight. Wildlings of Thenn may have been savages but they were still feral fighters which they proved when they almost tore through the Bolton ranks.

The Planter knight quickly controlled the damage and managed to successfully repel them back into the waiting lances of Bolton heavy cavalry that was being led by Justin Snow. It was already decided that no prisoners were to be taken and they were to be killed to the last men. It was a sad night and Harold was sure that the place would be haunted for years to come. If not the place then the men who fought in the battle were going to be haunted by the death and pain that they not only saw but also caused. Now, he knew why the veteran warriors were so afraid of a war.

He walked towards the unconscious body of Blackfoot around which Lord Bolton was holding his unofficial war council.

Domeric asked, "Report," as soon as Ser Planter walked towards them.

Harold replied, "We successfully captured their base and killed a number of fighters. I left thirty of my men there and another two hundred are left here after the battle. The rest of them either perished or are out for the count."

Domeric grimaced at the news, he was expecting better numbers but it was not so terrible either, statistically speaking. He then turned towards Ser Ethan and asked, "How many of your men survived, Ser?"

"Only forty of us survived my lord. We found another five in the forest heavily injured and they may not survive."

Domeric ran his hand across his face and released a heavy sigh. It was not an easy task to send people loyal to you to their death. It was necessary, he understood, but hoped he would never have to do it again.

Domeric firmly stated, "They will be remembered. Justin has already informed that sixty of his men are dead and I lost another fifty. Out of nine hundred men that fought for us only six and a half hundred survived."

They stood in silence for some time, remembering all the comrades that they lost. They had won but it came at a cost; it could have been worse, they thought collectively. Domeric then turned towards Justin Snow and commanded, "Kneel."

Justin dragged himself forward and bent his knee. He was wondering what was happening but did not have energy to ask, he was too exhausted after the long drawn out battle.

Domeric said, "I, Ser Domeric of House Bolton charge thee, Justin Snow of Dreadfort to serve as knight from this day until your last. You are charged to maintain law and order, protect innocents regardless of their titles, gender, religion or age. You are now a knight of the realm and serve the crown and its subjects. You bent down as a bastard but now will rise as a true knight, Ser Justin Snow of Dreadfort."

The newly dubbed Ser Justin Snow was dumfounded. He did not expect to be knighted as people of the North did not believe in knighthood. It was so unbelievable for him; a bastard from a lowly Noble House being knighted by his own liege lord. Ser Domeric had gained his respect these past few days but now he had gained a person who was almost fanatically loyal to him.

At first he had thought that he was going to serve some spoiled child who was raised as a southern knight and will not respect the ways of the North but what he found could not have been more different. He saw a competent lord who looked after his people and cared for their well-being.

In the past month, he and his men had been impressed by their lord. He would often times come and join them around the fire, singing songs with his strange instrument that he called 'guitar'. He would help around the town with everything and anything and never shied away from manual labor. He was looking forward to working with his liege lord even more now.

Domeric and the rest of his men dispersed and went to rest for some hours. After two hours, dawn broke through and the commanders of the battle dragged their still exhausted bodies and even more exhausted mind to the battlefield.

Domeric swiftly took command of the cleanup and all the women and children who survived the bloodbath were sent to the town under an armed escort of fifty men along with the injured soldiers who were in need of treatment from a maester.

Liam was in charge of the town in his absence and had an additional force of hundred men that had arrived from small houses and clans sworn to his family with him, in case their attack failed. The wizard quickly penned down a letter to his father during lunch and once again joined his men in collecting bodies, weapons and armors from all over the forest.

The place was mess which was kind of expected thing but still the amount of body parts and blood that littered the area was making even him nauseous. It was easy to ignore the horror-filled scene in the night, but now in the broad daylight, it brought a different color to the whole picture.

Three days, it took them three days to make the place clean again and even after that there were signs that told tales of the recent battle fought in the region. The barks of the trees in the forest were still painted red with blood while the ground was marked at various places with holes made by arrow-heads.

He, with his remaining men and supplies, once again returned to the Last Haven where they were welcomed back among huge cheers. The local people living there were extremely happy when their lord not only returned but also successfully eliminated the threat of wildlings without even a scratch on him. The good cheer managed to uplift the mood of even the most broody of his men which relaxed Domeric too.

They may have gotten over the ordeal but the mark that small battle had left on them could never be removed. _'And people wonder why Northeners are always so solemn and grim,'_ were his thoughts one night, a week after the battle when he noticed the change in behavior of his men. _'It is never easy to survive in the North, but then again, few things of true worth are ever easy._

 ** _To be continued..._**

* * *

Thank you all for the reviews and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter :)


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